


Kink meme adventures

by Fynx



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Consensual, Dark, Dubious Consent, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Incest, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Non Consensual, Omega Verse, abuse of a sort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-02-12
Packaged: 2017-11-24 06:56:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 38,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/631666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fynx/pseuds/Fynx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hopefully various filled prompts for the Hobbit Kink Meme. Expect works that you could not show your parents, unless of course you are the spawn of Satan. Then, I suppose, it is alright to share with him.<br/>I am serious. Some of these fills are pretty harmless, others... not so much. </p><p>1, "A Miracle": Dub/NonCon Fili/Kili, Dark!Kili<br/>2, "He was late": Gen. Fili dies. Kili can't handle that - and thus doesn't.<br/>3, „to never be“: E. Kili cannot have Fili, Fili cannot have Kili. They both take someone else instead.<br/>4, "high above the earth": M. Fili and Kili want each other. Metafic, kind of.<br/>6, "he laughed and laughed and laughed": DubCon. Kili/everyone my poor baby D:<br/>7, "invincible": F/K, dementia, character death.<br/>9, "not particularly dangerous": Gen, F/K<br/>10, "fire & stone": Gen, Fili-centric<br/>11, "wrong": F/K, incest is a horrible taboo<br/>12, "mirror move": F/K shameless PWP<br/>13, "pain": F/K noncon dark!Kili sorry<br/>14, "think of your brother alive": F/K, Thorin sees his dead brother in Fili<br/>15, Minifill-collection</p><p>5&8 deleted for publishment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A miracle

**Author's Note:**

> The reader should note that English is not my mother tongue. This does not necessarily mean I write like a dying hippopotamus. What it does mean is that you will probably encounter extremely silly mistakes every so often. I humbly beg you to disregard those mistakes.  
> //  
> The prompt for this consisted of Dark!Kili, "lacking a moral compass". "I'm thinking Kili has a sort of gold lust but no gold so it twists and instead of gold he replaces it with Fili. Fili is ok with this as it helps him to hide Kilis madness from others. And Kili is super possessive of his treasure and anyone who even looks at Fili is for fitting their lives in his eyes, but Fili tempers this mostly by offering his body up to Kili." I also incorporated "Bonus: Kili is completely demeaning while having sex with Fili(/Bilbo) calling him his little slut and just really putting Fili down 'showing him his place.'", or so I hope. Prompt: http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/2235.html?thread=3166395#t3166395

His brother loved him. Nobody could doubt that. When they were younger, so much younger than they were today – everyone said they were young, so young, yet Fili had seen and done things that made him feel as silently ancient as the mountains – Kili had told him, in that high-pitched voice he had sported for twenty years.

„I love you,“ Kili had said, huge eyes almost innocent, and Fili had wanted to believe it, and so he had, kept believing it because there was nothing else left for him to do.

The day had been rough. The human child had bled and cried. Kili had looked at Fili, and Fili, though too young himself, had understood that Kili didn't know. Didn't know when to stop, didn't know what to _do_ , didn't know, didn't know, would never know. The weeping of the child had almost drowned Kili's affectionate words, but Fili still heard them ringing clearly in his ears after all these years.  
They had left the child, its limbs torn off by Kili's rough prank; had left him on the road and had run back to their mother on the other side of the mountain.

 

„Mother,“ Fili had asked that evening, while carefully braiding his pathetically short hair, „When one cries, and bleeds, will that not move any living being to have pity on them?“

He had not seen the look his mother had shot him, but had listened to the heavy silence that had lasted for several long moments.

„No, gemstone. There are creatures out there much fouler even than the most horrible tale. They are more wild beast than dwarf, or Man, born of pain and hate. Their eyes look like yours, but behind them, there is but darkness.“

Fili had nodded. „Not the good kind of darkness, though. When you step into a cave and touch the stone, and it speaks to you and tells you of the riches it holds for you, that's a good darkness.“

Dís had nodded, or so Fili had thought. „You are right, the cruel kind of darkness. Not the warm cave with gold glittering in its depths, but the dark forest that lures you into its belly with false promises and sweet songs, to bring only death.“

„And a dwarf, mother, can a dwarf have that kind of darkness as well?“  
Fili had known the answer, and had sworn not to speak to his mother about his brother when she had replied with a smooth, „No, Fili. This darkness affects only Goblins and Orcs of all those who are not beasts.“

 

The darkness had always been there. It lay sleeping behind Kili's eyes most of the time, and Fili had learnt to hide it from all the others – he would speak to Kili, jape with him, propose much gentler pranks to play, and Fili would always see when the darkness threatened to engulf his brother, and act as his light. For Fili loved his brother dearly, and knew his brother loved him as well, and that was the only thing that mattered.

He had given his best, and had succeeded, and Kili had not hurt anyone but Fili, and what was a bit of pain compared to his brother?  
Nothing.

 

They were both far older when the pain turned so much darker than he could have imagined. It must have been festering inside of Kili, turning fouler over the years.

They were in a human village, for only a few weeks; Dís had sent them out to learn the ways of the world, but not too far out, only to the other side of the valley they were staying in right now.

It was almostt dark, and they were on their way from the market place to the cave a bit outside of the village where they stayed. A young human woman was out on the street, and smiled at the two dwarves who had already grown to their full height. Not quite. She was smiling at Fili, her eyes gleaming. She was not saying anything. She reminded Fili of the little child he had watched die so many years ago. He smiled back.

Things happened far too quickly then. Kili had drawn an arrow and shot the woman's arm; she yelped in pain, blood spread on her plain blue dress, and she sunk to her knees. Kili was on her within a second, pulling her head back, his knife in the other hand, but before he could slit her throat, Fili regained his senses. „Kili!“ he cried out, and Kili looked up, and he roughly gripped his arm and pulled him away from the woman.

He wanted to scream at him in anger, in frustration, in misery, but instead Kili opened his mouth, his smooth face distorted by feral anger.

„She wants you! But she doesn't understand! I'll make her understand, let me make her understand, she wants to steal you, to steal you, to steal-“

Whenever the darkness took root in his brother, he would repeat his words, as if he couldn't remember how to speak anymore. Fili could not bear that, and dug his nails into his arm even harder, but could not seem to get Kili to stop.

„But she mustn't, you're mine, only mine, I love you, I love you,“ Kili was almost sobbing by that point.  
Fili had never been able to stand his baby brother crying. He had to stop this, he would stop this. A kiss was all it took in the end, a sweet and gentle kiss; his brother tasted like dew, like a young cow's milk, like the darkest cave, and Fili was disgusted. But Kili quieted, and that was all that mattered.

Other humans were gathering. Fili tugged at Kili's arm, not daring to let go of him, and ran from the village. Kili followed him, and they ran until the younger dwarf stopped. They'd run into a forest, and Fili couldn't even see the moon through the trees.

„I love you,“ Kili said breathlessly, ugly wet streaks drying on his cheeks.  
„I love you, I love you, I love you so much, you're the only one, don't, don't ever look at anyone, I can't, it-“

And this time it was him who kissed Fili, but this kiss was so very different, as different as the sun and the moon were. It was full of want, need, with desperation coating Kili's lips as they crashed on Fili's, „mine“ he hissed against his mouth, Fili thought he would choke on the sheer power with which Kili desired him, „mine“ again, and still-soft hands were shoving and pulling at Fili's clothes, and he knew what was coming, and it was horrible, they couldn't do that, it was so terribly wrong, but Kili was beginning to cry again; and Fili knew how shameful it was, and knew that he would hate himself by the end of it, but he couldn't let his little brother cry.

„Shh,“ he whispered, endlessly calmer than Kili's desperate, choked words, „it's okay, I'm here, I'm yours, they won't have me...“

Kili didn't look at him, not really.  
His eyes were clouded with utter and complete darkness, they seemed to shine ever so brighter in the darkness of the forest that surrounded them.

„No, they won't,“ Kili growled, „I'll make sure of that.“ With a last pull, Fili's breeches were removed, and he found himself shoved against a tree.

„Mine.“

He rutted against him like a wild animal, and it was Fili's turn to cry, not of madness, not of sadness but because of shame, but he held onto his brother for dear life. The darkness had swallowed his brother whole.

He needed to save him. He was the only one who could.

„I'm yours? Prove it,“ he choked out. He would save him. He could. He would. _He had to._

Kili growled, as if enraged, and searingly hot pain blinded Fili. He distantly realised he cried, screamed, sobbed, yelled, prayed, but it was only his brother's name that left his mouth. His body felt like it was burning him from the inside out, and he realised that he was joined to his brother, their bodies as one.

He felt like throwing up then, bile bitter and sharp in his mouth. _His brother was inside him._ It could not be, and yet it was, and his body felt like one giant bleeding wound, pierced by a thousand arrows.  
Kili drew back, and slammed into him again, and he closed his eyes in acceptance.

He thought of huge, almost-innocent eyes. He could endure this, if only it would keep the dark abyss at bay.

„Kili,“ he gasped, „Kili,“ and although he wanted nothing but to curl up and cry, he forced himself to sound not quite as desperate as he felt. Kili moaned in response, a groan coming from deep within him.

„Mine,“ he snarled again, and sunk his teeth into Fili's neck while he fucked him, fucked him until little red snakes were crawling out from out of Fili's belly, and then continued. It felt like an eternity, but it was over quickly; Kili did not last long.

Fili realised he had been waiting for this a long time.

A warm, white substance mingled with the red snakes. „Did you like that?“ Kili asked, his voice hoarse and breathless, still sunk deeply inside Fili. He couldn't breathe, couldn't answer. „You look like you liked it. Oh, of course you did... because you love me, isn't that so?“

„Yes,“ Fili said, and his voice was strained but not broken. „I do.“

The darkness receded, he noticed suddenly. It hissed and growled in pain, but it receded, and there was a spark of light in Kili's eyes. Not much, like the faintest ray of sunlight far in the East, but it was there, and he fought the urge to weep of joy.  
He could do it, he could keep it back, he could tame the darkness within his brother, and all it took was his body. A small price to pay.

When Kili spoke next, his words were akin to the purr of a cat. „I've claimed you. You will not be touched by anyone else. You will tell them that you're mine, and mine alone, and forever, until we both die. You're brighter than gold, and more precious than any diamond.“

Those were rare words indeed for a dwarf, and Fili could not help but feel touched by them, even as he stood shivering with blood drying on his thighs. „I love you.“ He buried his face in Fili's neck then, tongue lazily sliding over the teeth mark.

He could have lost his brother that day, but Kili was still alive, still well, and Fili was grateful for it.

 

Every time someone looked at Fili, Kili's gaze would darken. They would find a seclude spot, and they would fuck.  
In the beginning, it would be over soon; but with time, they discovered so many more things. They discovered skin, hands, nails, teeth, and often Fili would have the too sweet taste of Kili's pleasure in his mouth for days.

When Thorin wanted them to come with him, Kili would not hear of it at first.  
„Don't even think about it,“ he had howled; his temper had grown much calmer over time, with each time their bodies joined the darkness would retreat further, only to come back so much stronger. „Too many hideous, disgusting things looking at you. They will see you bathing! They will look at my treasure. They mustn't.“  
Fili had been able to persuade him, though; he had sworn to him that he only belonged to him, that nobody would as much as touch him, and that he would not stop Kili if he wanted to kill any of their companions.  
(He would, of course. He always would fight the darkness for his brother's sake.)

 

Thus they were riding with the company. Kili had put on the façade of the funny young dwarf, the one he always wore when in the company of too many other dwarves. Fili himself had adopted his role of slightly more responsible – if not much – heir, and nobody suspected that Kili's odd behaviour at times had any deeper meaning.

Only Thorin would stop and look at him at times when Fili was unable to fight the darkness back, but he never said anything, so all was well.

He quite liked the Hobbit; he was a merry little fellow, if very weird in much of his antics. Still, he didn't delude himself in thinking he could so much as talk amiably to him, at least not without Kili at his side. „As long as I'm there with you, you're safe,“ Kili had once told him.

Fili took it as meaning that he was far more tolerant of Fili's social life when they were together.

Understandable, really.

He loved him, after all. He loved him. Kili loved him, and if he was hurt when they were reestablishing their bond, that wasn't Kili's fault. Fili was a dwarf and an heir, not a silly Elven maid. He should be able to take a bit of pain without whining.

 

The darkness grew again. They didn't have many occasions to lie with each other, not with so many eyes around them. Kili did not take it well, Fili could sense it in the air, in the way his brother's jokes grew more vile each day, in the way his gaze cut open anyone who looked at Fili. He had to act, and soon.

The perfect chance offered itself in Rivendell; while the other dwarves were eating and snoring, and with the watchful eyes of Thorin and Gandalf gone, he would be able to fight back the darkness.

 

Fili tugged at Kili's sleeve; his brother looked at him from sleepy eyes. „Hm?“ he asked, but grew attentive very quickly. He stood, and they left the heap of dwarves, and soon found a room without inhabitants.

Fili closed the door carefully, and turned to see his brother already free of the mask he was wearing. He smiled. This was a side of Kili nobody else got to see. The side he only showed to Fili. His true self, as ugly and twisted as it was, was only Fili's.

He should not smile, should not, and yet he did.

„I don't like this adventure,“ Kili whined. „Look at them. They will get gold, and a home. They will get everything they want.“

„Yes, they will,“ Fili agreed. His fingers ran over Kili's cheeks gently. Kili closed his eyes and almost smiled. He had never seen his brother truly smile, had only seen the mask smile, but never the real Kili. Then, Kili tugged at his clothes, and Fili knew what would follow.

„They will have it all. But do tell me, beloved brother, why do they still want you, too?“

Fili didn't sigh. He would have, in a different world. „They don't want me,“ he tried to assure Kili. The almost smile grew into a manic grin.

„No, don't lie, I see it in their eyes. They want you. They want to do intimate things with you. Filthy things. They want to shame you.“ They were both naked by the time Kili had finished talking, two pairs of hands grabbing hastily at too-complicated clothing. „Bombur knows no limits. I know he wants to make you scream. Dwalin wants to bury himself inside of you...“

Fili flushed. „Brother, do not talk so of our comrades!“

„But it is true.“ Kili's hands were roaming Fili's chest. „You have thought of it as well. I bet you think of it every day. You imagine what they would feel like, inside you, stealing my possession...“

„That is not true, and you know it.“ Kili's fingers twisted, and Fili yelped in pain. The pale moon shone its light on them and illuminated his brother's face in a harsh way.

„Is it not, brother? Don't lie to me. You don't want me anymore...“ His hand wandered down to close around Fili's shaft. „See, you are not hard for me.“  
He grew hard in his grip, though, something Fili was thankful for.

„I'm not lying when I say that I love you, Kili.“ And that was true, at the very least. He was never lying when he said that, even when Kili forced him to say it while claiming him. Then, he bucked into his hand, and Kili's grin grew wider.

„I will believe you, just this once. On your knees. You do not deserve better, for all the smiles the Hobbit sends your way.“ Fili nodded. His brother had grown mad, and he had learnt that disagreeing with him would only feed the insanity. He got down on his knees, and went to take his brother into his mouth, but a strong hand shoved him away.  
„No. Turn around.“

Oh. Fili obeyed; he had no choice, not really. Soon, Kili's hands were around his hips, and he breathed against his neck.

„You don't deserve anything. You are dirt.“ He pushed into his entrance, and Fili bit on his lips to hold back a cry. They never used anything to ease Kili's way – after all, why would they, this was not about Fili's pleasure – and it always hurt, even now. As always, he fucked him roughly, but slowly this night. Their skin was as wet with sweat as were the sounds coming from their coupling, Kili's groans and Fili's moans filling the room. He was hard, too; he always was hard when Kili fucked him, as shameful as it was. Sometimes Kili would let him finish as he lay spent, watching, and rarer even would help him along the way. Fili had a feeling this would not happen today.

Slowly, Kili's motions grew more frantic, and Fili arched back to meet, to drill him deeper inside him, until he could not think anymore, until all vanished before his eyes but pain and pleasure, waves crashing on him. He could hear his brother, between his groans and gasps, murmuring his name, accusing him of unthinkable things, but he did not listen.

After all, Fili thought, he truly was unthinkable, allowing himself to be shamed like that, allowing his brother to be shamed like that. He liked being needed by his brother. He liked being there for him, liked helping him, liked being special to him.

As Kili spent himself inside of him, Fili's mind was as sharp as any blade. He realised he was madder than his brother. He was more of an abomination than his brother could ever be.

It was a miracle that Kili still loved him.


	2. He was late

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> English still has not miraculously become my mother tongue! Watch out for silly mistakes, everyone!   
> //  
> Prompt: Fili is a product of Thorin's and Kili's imaginations. He died shortly before the quest and now is present as ghost/spectre following them around because Kili could not survive without his brother and Thorin just wanted him back so badly that he began to believe in Kili's delusion.
> 
> (http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/2235.html?thread=3320251#t3320251)

It would make a funny anecdote to tell. 

The view truly was funny, Kili thought during those first precious seconds, as Fili stumbled down the hill drunkenly. He even began to laugh, and Fili turned around to look at him with amused eyes.  
„Look, Kili“ he prompted, lifting one foot from the ground and balancing on the other, hill steep underneath him. Kili laughed louder, and when his brother lost his footing, fell, and cried out in a rather undignified manner, he could feel tears of joy creep into his eyes. The others would roar when he told them of this!! Maybe their uncle would even smile.

It took Kili a few seconds to notice that Fili did not get up again.

He jogged down the hillside, not quite as careful as he should be, and kneeled beside his brother, grinning widely. „Come on, now, or else we are going to be late!“

Fili did not answer. Odd. His brother would _always_ react to him. Kili knew the way he would look at him for just a second, even if the hall was crowded with other dwarves, merrily telling tales (and for dwarves, _merry_ was synonymous with _deafeningly loud_ ), knew the way the corners of his mouth would twitch upwards, knew the shimmer in his eyes brighter than gold, and those were only the subtler communications in their lives.

He did not answer this time, and did not move.

„You don't want to be late, do you?“ Kili's tone had lost some of its playfulness. „Surely they will start feasting with or without us. If we arrive too late, nothing's going to be left.“

Fili still lay unmoving. His eyes were open, Kili saw; the faint light of the sun behind the other side of the hill was reflected on unseeing mirrors. Tentatively, Kili extended a hand to touch his brother's face. His face did not move when his fingers found something sticky and warm and foul, drying on his brother's temple.

„Fili?“ he asked, his voice small.

Kili sat at his brother's side for hours, until the sun had laid itself to rest.

„Let us not be late,“ he cried out suddenly. „I am hungry.“ His grin was huge as his brother stood up with him, and put an arm around his shoulder.

 

Thankfully, they were not late, and the others had not already ravaged all the Hobbit's provisions. Kili was a bit nervous as he stood in front of the round door, but Fili was there by his side, smiling this smile he most always wore, and so he had no reason to be nervous, really; and when they were told that it had not been cancelled, what a joy indeed! He dumped their weapons into Mr Boggins' arms and went to greet the others, most of whom he had not seen for years, if decades.

„If that isn't little Kili.“ Dwalin was not quite as intimidating as Kili remembered him; the towering warrior had shrunk, somehow. He clasped him on the back, roughly but amiably. „And where have you left your shadow?“  
„Dwalin, have you grown blind over the years?“ Kili grinned. „He's right next to me.“

Fili was still smiling, and inclined his head towards Dwalin. „How good it is to see you again, Dwalin.“

Then, Dwalin said something, but Kili could not quite concentrate on his words. It all seemed to be a blur, but in a good sense; he felt like bathing in warm water on a misty spring morning, and he simply continued grinning. „Yes, whatever you say,“ he replied, „now where's the ale?“

The two of them went off to look for some alcohol, and found some, and oh what a joy was the feast! Afterwards, they even sang, and Fili's voice was strong through the crowd's noise; they'd shown that Hobbit what a proper dinner was!  
Kili was quite satisfied, even though the odd blur recurred more often. It was odd indeed. His senses would dim, but a contentedness would come over him of a kind he hadn't known since he'd been a little dwarfling, safely tucked into his mother's arms. He would not be able to distinguish any words the other dwarves spoke to him, and would be much more aware of Fili by his side than he usual was. Usually, Fili was like an extension of his own body, and one mostly wasn't aware of the existence of one's arm; but when the blur came over Kili, he became intensely aware of Fili who smiled as he always did. He always smiled, his brother.

It was a good evening, and nothing was wrong, nothing at all, until of course their uncle arrived, bringing with himself the gloominess of age and weariness.

„Kili,“ he greeted him. Kili inclined his head ever so slightly. Fili smiled, and replied with a steady „Good evening, uncle.“  
„Where is your brother?“

Kili rolled his eyes. Dwalin, he could understand, but his own uncle? He surely wasn't so old as to lose his senses already! „Uncle, really, have you lost your ears and eyes along with the way? He is standing right next to me, greeting you. Fili,“ and with that he turned to his right, to look into his brother's face, „what say you to that, our grave uncle has finally learned to jape, it is a miracle larger than what the world has ever seen.“

His brother laughed at that. „Kili, don't be like that, we're all tired. It's a joke in bad taste, but it's alright.“  
Kili nodded and turned back to their uncle.  
„See? You have yet much to learn about being funny.“

Thorin's gaze lingered on him, as heavy and monstrous as the mountain they would try to reclaim. The mist crept up on Kili's mind and drowned out the low, sonorous voice that spoke to him, but Thorin managed to cut through the blur when he gripped Kili's arm tightly, eliciting a yelp from the younger dwarf.

„Your brother is not here, where is he?“ Thorin asked, his voice more dangerous than Kili had ever heard him.

He felt laughter bubbling up in his chest. Thorin's fingers dug deeply into his flesh through his clothing. „Right here, right here! Right by my side!! He is alive and well, uncle, those are enough jokes, really!!“ And with that, he freed himself from the grip and stumbled back. His uncle stayed where he was, but Fili followed him, of course.

He was smiling, his brother was smiling. Kili was glad he was not hurt by Thorin's silly behaviour. „Now won't you talk to the Hobbit, and Gandalf? They're eager to talk about this burgling business, aren't they?“

Kili grinned widely, so widely it hurt. Then, like a rabbit eager to escape a fox, he bolted away, into a different room, accompanied by Fili. Smiling and gentle and brave and beloved Fili.

 

They left the Hobbit's hole early the next morning, far too early for Kili's taste.  
The journey, he knew, would be a boring one; long days spent sitting on the ponies Gandalf had acquired for them, to fall asleep with limbs exhausted from doing so little.

Nobody gave Fili a pony. That was really odd, Kili thought. Not only was his brother a fierce warrior, surely more experienced than the likes of Ori and therefore more deserving of a mount, he was also Thorin's heir!

Maybe Thorin was angry at Fili, considering his behaviour the evening before, when he had pretended he could not see Fili? And now he didn't give him a pony. The two of them had avoided Thorin all morning, Fili only smiling when Kili brought up the possibility that maybe Thorin was angry. Then again, why should he be angry? Kili was always with Fili, and he was sure Fili had not done anything to anger their uncle so much.

„Fili!“ he said suddenly as he was saddling his steed.

„Hm?“ Fili replied, absent-mindedly smiling in his direction.

„I know now why uncle is treating you so badly! Do you remember, a year ago in winter, when he ordered the bread to be shared equally between us all?“  
Fili's smile didn't move, but his tone carried all the fond remembrance his mouth lacked. „Oh yes, of course I remember. I gave you my share.“

„Yes, and I wouldn't let you. We were all starving that winter. But you said you wouldn't eat it, and in the end it ended up inside my belly.“  
Fili rolled his eyes. „Do you really think he's angry because I defied his order by caring for my brother?“

It did not sound convincing at all, Kili had to admit. After all, he was sure Thorin loved their mother just as fiercely as he loved Fili. He shrugged. „If you have a better idea, out with it.“

But of course Fili did not have a better idea. He only smiled. Kili mounted the pony and rode up to their uncle waiting at the head of the column until everyone was ready (Bombur needed the help of two of their companions to mount, Kili saw as he rode past him).

He had the horse trotting, because Fili was by his side as he always was and had to keep up the pace.

When he arrived, Thorin glowered at him, and Kili hadn't even opened his mouth before his uncle spoke.

„You _will_ tell me what happened to your brother, and my heir. Have you left him sleeping in some tavern along the way?“  
Still angry, then. „Is this about the time Fili gave me his share of his bread?“  
„If so, uncle, I apologise.“ he heard Fili speak from his side. Gandalf looked at them intently from a few feet away.  
Thorin looked at Kili in confusion first, and then in growing irritation. „What are you talking about, nephew? This is about your bro-“

Ah. How pleasant, not having to listen to-

_-ther missing your brother is not there he's not there where is he Kili his eyes reflect the sun where is he is he-_

„He is alive!!“ Kili said, so loud all the idle talk from the other dwarves fell silent. „Look!! Right next to my pony!! He's walking and joking and _smiling_ , uncle!“

They all stared at him. Gandalf stared at him.

_-no no no he isn't he can't be it's not possible **but he is** no-_

His uncle's voice said his name. Kili felt ill all of a sudden, felt like retching, and would have, too, if not for a hand gently laid on his leg.

Ah. Yes. It was a warm hand, pulsing with strong, defiant life. Fili would not die so easily. He had slipped on the hill, and fallen, but he had stood up again.  
He would not leave Kili alone. He had sworn not to, after all, and his brother did not lie to him.

„Kili, come, let us not disturb uncle further.“ Fili's voice was smooth, and Kili nodded thankfully, riding back to the column. Thorin, however, followed him, and the towering stature of the wizard was right after him. Kili rode faster, and Fili caught up with him, and soon he was riding and Fili was running, and they were both laughing as if they were little dwarflings playing in a field, breathless but with rosy cheeks and euphoria singing in their blood.

Then, his pony stopped dead in its tracks; Kili almost fell, but somehow managed to keep his seat. Gandalf blocked his path, and stared at him with this intense gaze once again.  
Cold sweat ran down Kili's neck _dead dead dead dead blood warm blood smelling like iron back home so sweet and warm and brave and always there_ „We swore it!!“ Kili yelled in the direction of the wizard, and turned only to face his uncle. „We swore we would never leave one another! And that is it! Never would he leave me, believe me, I promise, I promise! He swore an oath!“

Thorin remained deadly silent, like a statue.

The tears on his face were but Kili's imagination. Thorin Oakenshield would not cry so in front of anybody.

„Fine. You swore an oath.“ With those words, he abruptly turned around again and rejoined the company; they were all babbling again, and their words hurt Kili's ears. Gandalf looked at him, too, but joined Thorin and left Kili alone with Fili.

Fili was smiling up at him. „We should not keep them waiting. Let us not be late.“ Kili nodded, and soon joined the rest of them as well.

 

The days passed uneventfully. Once, Kili dismounted his pony to let Fili ride as well – as with the bread last winter, but with their roles reversed, he needed to insist until Fili accepted his offer – and when he walked alongside the pony, it steered from the path.  
Normally Fili was a good horseman, well, as good as could be expected from a dwarf, but this pony simply _did not listen_ to his brother's commands, and it wasn't long until Kili was sitting the pony again.  
After all, it seemed as if Fili could keep up quite well even without a pony.

When the days began to pass eventfully, Kili was partly thankful for the boredom to end, but found he was also scared down to his bones; what if his brother should die out here? What if the ugly trolls had eaten him, what if one of those wolves had slaughtered him, what if, what if? Dangers lurked all around, and although he knew that Fili could hold his own quite well, Kili could not help but imagine a life without his brother.  
He did not manage that.  
Whenever he thought of life without Fili, his mind went blank, and the blur returned. It grew stronger each day, too; whenever someone talked to him about Fili, it came, and brought a dizziness with itself.

„Fili,“ he asked his brother the night in Rivendell in a hushed voice, „do you know of an illness of the mind, not dangerous or foul, but one that makes you... I don't know... it's like mist, and it engulfes me and I can't hear and can't see and can't feel, but it's good, somehow, because it's warm and bright and just, just...“

He was not ashamed of telling his brother of this odd thing happening to him. There was not a single secret they did not share with each other.

Fili nodded, the smile stubbornly on his face. „Yes, Kili, I know of this. It is not dangerous, as you say. It is a normal thing when growing older.“

„Ah,“ Kili said then, „that explains it, then. With me, it always happens when one talks about you.“

Fili nodded again, and yawned. His face was like a wonder; even as he yawned, he still managed to smile. Kili could not help but return that calm, loving smile.  
„Yes. That is normal, too. Sleep now, we will leave very early in the morning. I know how you dislike early mornings.“

 

„Kili,“ Thorin said as he walked at his side in the mountains. Fili walked in front of them, just behind Bifur and Bofur. Kili looked at his uncle coolly; however, he did not stay cool for long, and soon his lips had split into a small smile.

„Yes?“ he answered.

„Your brother looks well today.“ Kili nodded happily. Gandalf had not caught up with them yet, he remembered suddenly. He liked the wizard, but him being gone freed his heart of shackles he didn't know existed in the first place.

„He always does. He's as stubborn as the stone, and far more resilient.“

Thorin almost smiled. „Oh yes. He always was, even as a little child. Once, when you were not born yet, he fell down a steep hole in a mine. We all thought we'd lost him, but he just crawled up out of this hole, dirty all over and blood all over his face, and smiled at us.“

Kili laughed at that story. Fili had never told him! He probably could not remember himself.

Thorin nodded, but slowly, as if sunken deeply in thoughts.

„You know, I can see him now. I don't understand why I didn't, before.“  
„'tis the age, uncle!“

Kili was still laughing, and the look Thorin shot him was stern but not truly hurt. „Not everyone can be as bright as Balin when growing old!“

„Be thankful that your brother is older than you are. Kili, you would make a disastrous King under the Mountain when I have ceased to be.“

Kili looked at the stone wall bordering his left. „Let us not talk about this.“

Thorin nodded. They spent the rest of the way in silence.

 

For a few seconds, Kili was convinced that he had lost his brother forever this time; the desperation in Thorin's voice when he called his brother's name was very real, too; but when the stone giant stumbled back and revealed a very much alive Fili, he could feel his heart leaping in relief. He was well! They were all still well!! Of course. Nothing could ever happen to Fili. Fili would always be there with Kili, fighting side by side, and if they died, they would die the very same moment.

How he loved to see his smile in the dark cave.

They fought goblins, they ran, ran, ran until Kili's lungs were about to burst. It all passed in a daze. They kept running until light welcomed them brightly. The Hobbit joined them again, and then the horrible orc came, and the fire came, and the eagles came, and Thorin was dying, but somehow they made it to the top of a high stone pillar. Thorin was suddenly not dying anymore, and they all cheered, and then, when the others began their descent – lead by the Hobbit, of all their companions – Gandalf stayed back with Fili, Kili and Thorin. Thorin did not need to be carried, of course; he was a proud King.

Before they began the descent, though, Gandalf asked them to stay with him for a moment. Thorin complied; the wizard had saved their lives more than once.

Gandalf sat down on the ground and looked up at Thorin and Kili in turn.  
Fili was smiling brightly at his side.

„Now, Kili, let us talk about your brother. Thorin, you must listen.“  
Once again, the desire to flee grabbed hold of Kili. But it would be ridiculous, wanting to flee from an old man like this. So he simply nodded, trying to keep his heart from racing.  
„I don't like this,“ Fili murmured, quiet enough for only Kili to hear.  
„I know.“ he answered just as quietly.

„I have found your brother, Kili. He was barely recognisable anymore, but I felt it. You must bid him farewell. It has been too long.“

Kili found himself smiling Fili's serene, eternal smile.

„He slipped, and his head hit a stone. The crows had found him before I did. Not every warrior finds death on the battlefield.“  
His smile grew wider. The mist was tugging at his senses, but the wizard's unrelenting presence kept him grounded. Desperation grew inside of him. He wanted to welcome the mist, wanted to sink himself into it until he drowned.  
„He is  
 **  
not dead  
**  
dead, Kili.“

Silence.

„I have seen him too,“ Thorin said, his voice carefully quiet. „He is with us. He has already began the descent with the others.“  
„Uncle, he is here.“ said Kili. He didn't realise he was laughing.

„I am not happy about this, but I must put it harshly. He is in the bellies of crows, he has emerged from this life. He is  
 **  
not dead not dead right here  
**  
dead.“

 

„No.“ Kili's word was simple, and it stated but the truth.  
„You do not see. You are old and blind. You do not understand. He swore that he would never leave me. Do you call him a liar?“

„Kili...“ said Gandalf, and suddenly Kili's laughter ceased.  
„He's here! He's here!“ And he grasped, and his hand found Fili's shoulder, Fili who smiled so beautifully, with such warmth and love that Kili didn't notice how his laugh had turned into tears. „Touch him, and you'll know! You can't!“

„You need to understand that he's gone-“ Gandalf tried to say, but Kili shoved at him.  
„Stop it! That is rude! This game has gone too far!“

„Kili, look at me, look at your uncle, and look at Fili-“  
Kili did as he was told; he saw an old, haggard wizard, a miserable old dwarf, and a young brother full of golden sunlight.  
„Who seems real? Who seems made up? Has he once, just once, ceased to smile?“

Kili laughed, and cried, and laughed.

 

Fili smiled at him and took his hand.  
„Come, Kili, Gandalf is being really impolite to us,“ he said and Kili could not agree more. Fili tugged at his hand.  
„Come, Kili, come with me, I miss you so...“

 

_Why would he miss me–_ Fili stopped smiling and looked at him with a silent plea ringing loudly in Kili's ears. His eyes glittered brighter than the whole world. Kili's mind went blank.  
Fili had always been there for him. Never had he looked more like a brother than now, and Kili stumbled right after him, down, down, so far down.


	3. to never be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual warning. My mother tongue – it ain't English, dearie. Stupid mistakes ahoy.  
> //This time, the prompt I chose was the following: 
> 
> "If dwarves only love once, what happens if the person you love doesn't love you back? Cue Kili pining over Fili, only to watch him fall for another woman. In spite or jealousy or just angst, Kili tries his best to take his mind off of Fili by sexing up someone else.  
> +10 for canon au where everyone survives  
> +100 if Fili is in love with Kili but wants to give him a normal life  
> +1000 if people are genuinly not ok with brotherly love  
> +100000000000000000 if the other male for Kili is Thorin. Like, seriously, I will give you my firstborn."
> 
> I tried to stay as close to it as possible, and am hoping to be mailed this firstborn soon. 
> 
> Prompt: http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/2235.html?thread=2841275#t2841275

They were sat in their mother's lap, little dwarflings barely able to walk on their own. It was already past bedtime, but she had _promised_ to tell them another story, and dwarves were not a folk to step down from promises given. Both of the children were yawning, and there really wasn't enough space on Dís' lap, but miraculously, the brothers were able to share without fighting about it. She could not quite discern where one of her sons began and the other ended, so tangled up were they in each other, and warmth and sudden love filled her weary heart. 

„... you will not understand it for many more years to come, my precious diamonds,“ she said, her tone soothing and calm. „but then, you will _know_ what it means to love another.“  
„I love you,“ said her older son, and she smiled at him.  
„This is not the same, Fili. My love for you is greater than the highest mountain, but it is so very _different_ from the love you will harbour for the lucky lass you will marry. When I laid eyes on your father, it was as if the world had _changed_.“ Dwarves were not in the business of orchestrating beautiful ballads about love, for the radiance of a ruby often surpassed the emotions they bore for one another. Dís was not different from her people, but she was able to put her heart's feelings in words, and that she did for her sons. 

„Changed?“ asked Kili, his black hair just starting to grow out.  
„Changed. Before I met him, the world was quiet, and subdued. It was as if I was slumbering while awake. When we talked for the first time, he opened my eyes, in a way.“ She smiled down at them gently; Fili was struggling to stay awake himself, but Kili watched her with attentive eyes. „As if the sun had come up, and every sound, every smell, every sight was suddenly so much more precious.“ 

Kili nodded. Fili rested his head on his brother's shoulder and closed his eyes. 

„And then you married?“ asked Kili.  
Dís chuckled. „Well, yes. It took a bit more time until I worked up the courage to ask for his hand, but that was the moment I knew I would marry him, and-“  
Her son interrupted her, a gleeful smile on his face. „I understand now, mother!“  
„Oh, you do?“ she asked, playing along. Of course her son did not understand the love between two grown-up dwarves, but she was curious what he had to say. Kili nodded.  
„You say that the sun comes up! And, and that's funny because Fili is like the sun! I will marry Fili!“  
That was not exactly what she had expected, but she only kissed his forehead gently. „No, treasure, you will not. He is your brother.“  
Kili nodded. „Yes, exactly. I promise I will marry him!“ 

-

Dwarves truly were not a folk to step down from promises given, Kili thought. His uncle was being crowned, deep down in Erebor. The exiled King had returned to his Kingdom, and that called for a large celebration – and you could trust dwarves when it came to celebrating. The first part of the clearing work had been finished, and although the kingdom did not look as splendid as he had somehow expected it to be, it looked rather nice indeed. The ambassadors of other dwarven tribes had come to witness the coronation alongside a large part of Thorin's people, crowding the huge hall. 

As his uncle sat on his throne and received one dwarven Lord after the next, Fili and Kili as his heirs stood to his left; Balin and Dwalin stood to his right. After what felt like hours of standing around – every single of his limbs ached to move – Kili's attention was sparked by the arrival of a rather lowly Lord. Not exactly _his_ arrival; it was more the dwarven maid at his side, clearly his daughter, that had him narrow his eyes. She was a beautiful creature, her hair braided intricately around her head and her whiskers adorned with splendid juwels. The eyes of all the male dwarves in the Hall lay on her, including his brother's. 

A lot had changed since the days they'd spent needing nobody but each other. Fili had taken up the habit of not looking into Kili's eyes whenever they spoke. He had grown not rough, or harsh, but cool, somehow, and whenever Kili had tried to talk about it, he'd said – „It's nothing, brother“ – and had somehow managed to escape, and it made Kili sick. 

He had thought long and hard what he could have done to make his brother be so cross with him, and had not been able to come up with anything. They had simply stopped being close; had stopped being Filiandkili and had become Fili and Kili. That was what he told himself. The other possibility made him just as sick to even think about. Surely his brother would not have been able to find out his most secret desire. It was not in Kili's eyes when he looked at his brother, he was careful to keep it out of the casual touches, did not show it when he spoke. But he kept it close to his heart. The acute pain of wanting his brother – knowing he would never be his chosen one – was sharp and heavy, but it was forever bound to the love he felt for him, and that love he could only forget if he were to rip out his own heart. The few times Kili caught Fili looking at him, those few times he thought he could see a broken fragment of the emotional intimacy they had once shared, were enough to kindle a flame in his veins hotter than any dragonfire. In those moments he was thankful Fili did not look at him as often, for fighting the urge to pull him close and lose himself within him grew almost too strong to resist. 

Now Fili looked at the maid as if – as if the sun had just gone up for him, Kili realised with an agonisingly sharp blow. Her hair was black like the night, she had no business being _anyone's_ sun, much less his brother's. He swallowed drily.  
The line of Durin would continue, he knew with sudden certainty, as she looked up at the royal family and a quiet smile was passed between her and Fili.

\- 

She must be an extraordinarily beautiful girl, Fili had judged from the subtle reactions of the dwarves around them. Her father had certainly made sure to present her as one to desire, and her smile was bright and open. Her hair was like coal ( _like Thorin's, like mother's, like Kili's_ ) and her blue eyes like sapphires. When she had directed this beaming smile at him, he'd known that this was _his_ chance. Now they were sat in a hall far below the throne room and feasting on the finest meat and ale. 

Fili loved his brother, he thought as he glanced over in his direction; Kili sat with Thorin many seats away from, for Fili had deliberately sat down opposite of the dwarven girl. Yes, Fili loved his brother; loved him so much it hurt in his chest to even look at him, and because this pain pierced his heart, he knew that his brother felt just the same way. 

And that was not what was supposed to be. He'd always known they were far too close, far too dependent on each other. Had always known they were _wrong_ , on such a fundamental level he hadn't dared to even think the thought. And whenever he found his gaze had strayed towards Kili, he saw his brother staring at him with hunger writ openly on his face, with need and longing and desperation.  
He never savoured that sight. Could not, forbid himself so. They were not travelling dwarves with no consequences to their actions. They had a home now, and they were the heirs, and so many pairs of eyes lay on them. If they were to give in just once – it must never be. They had a _home_. They had a _family_. Fili would not rob his brother of those things. 

And so he talked with the dwarven girl – Bryl was her name, and she had once mined a diamond the size of an eagle's egg, he found out – and joked with her, and concentrated only on her, on her sparkling eyes, and urged himself to love her with his being, to love her with only a faint part of the love he held for his brother. He would convince himself that she was the right one, eventually, he was sure, if only he fought to. 

His brother deserved this. His brother deserved that Fili did all in his power to save him from the world's scorn. 

And yet he longed for a far different world, longed not for Bryl's gentle voice but to hear his brother's raucous laughter, to hear his hoarse moans, to hear him whisper his name in dark nights. 

\- 

Kili had almost – _almost_ – worked up the courage to tell his brother _everything_. To tell him about all those times he'd imagined them together, the way their bodies would fit so perfectly together, how he would braid his hair just so to show the world that none may touch him, to tell him about that day so many years ago when he had awoken with pain tearing his heart apart for they would never again share warmth, had almost worked up the courage to ask for forgiveness, to ask for one more touch, one more glance, to ask for a song sung together, for nothing more, really; had almost worked up the courage to draw him into a kiss, to press him against Erebor's cold stone walls, to make him come undone with his touches, to hold him, to taste him, to love him; almost, almost, almost.  
He would have told him of the utter certainty with which he knew that he would never love another but him, that he would never father children or make another happy. He would have told him of sweet kisses, of abiding affection, of growing old with their hands clasped tightly together. 

He would have told him, one day. 

Instead he stood outside a small cave hewn into the heart of the mountain, with his uncle as company. Within the cave, his brother was swearing an oath to Bryl – a stupid name, a stupid, ugly girl. A dwarf's wedding was extremely intimate, and just as Bryl's father had led her into the cave, Thorin and Kili had brought Fili up to this point. Fili had looked at Kili just before entering, and he'd been unable to read his gaze – it spoke of relief, of bliss, of a new life about to begin, but there was a shadow underneath, an almost unfathomable sadness. That, surely, Kili only imagined, a dark corner of his mind not wishing his brother all the happiness in the world but to break away from her side and elope with him instead. 

He would have told him. He did not tell him after all. 

They stood in silence for a few moments. Kili tried not to succumb to the overwhelming grief that threatened to engulf him. Thorin's gaze lay on him; hard and unrelenting, and quizzical.  
„I would not have you look so mournful on such a joyous day,“ he spoke, his voice heavy and deliberate. Kili returned his gaze and let out a small sigh.  
„You must mistake my expression. I am overjoyed, uncle.“ He smiled, quite convincingly if he might say so himself. Still Thorin did not look convinced.  
„Speak to me. What might sadden you on a day like this? Your brother has found the one to spend his life with, our line will now continue with surety. Do you fear he will not have as much time for you? Are you envious he has the love of his chosen one?“  
Kili tried to laugh. Instead of the usual carefree sound, only a sad shadow of its former self emerged from his throat. „Leave it be.“ He did not mean to sound harsh, but he did, bitterness coating his voice. „I am glad my brother has found what I am still looking for.“ 

„Are you really looking still?“ Thorin asked. Kili forgot to breathe for a second. Surely if not even Fili knew of his shameful secret, Thorin wouldn't either, Thorin who was far too occupied with his kingdom to pay any attention to _him_.  
He thought about his answer for a few seconds.  
„What do you think, uncle?“ 

Thorin paced around him there, in the wide room with only the two of them.  
„You think I am old, and focus only on my birthright. You are wrong, Kili. Others may not understand the words your eyes speak, but you are far more similar to my sister than you think. I could always read her like the simplest book, and I can read you too.“ 

Kili turned his shoulder to his uncle. „Do not worry yourself. I know how wrong this is, I can restrain myself. I will not act upon these desires.“  
A small smile tugged at the corners of Thorin's mouth. „I am not worried, Kili. Instead I would have you act upon these... desires.“ 

Kili turned around again, to find his uncle had taken his hand into his own. He looked at him, more startled than anything else. „You are not my one, but if you truly _do_ desire me as I saw in your eyes, I will be able to help. A king has to care for his people.“ 

Desire _him_? Yes, Kili loved his uncle, but he had never thought about... this possibility. Thorin, however, seemed very convinced that it was not Fili Kili wanted, but him, and if he wanted to believe that, all the better; for loving one's uncle was far less looked down upon than one's brother. It was not fair towards Thorin, but then again, hadn't he said he wanted to help? And he was an attractive dwarf, surely more attractive than Kili was, and his eyes looked so much like Fili's it hurt him to think about it. Only darker, they were, the bright grey faded by age and grief. 

He felt a smile growing on his lips, a cheeky, mischievous smile. If he closed his eyes... they even smelled a bit alike. Maybe, maybe it would help him forget. No. It would certainly make him forget.  
„What a gracious offer,“ he said, his voice kept low, and turned fully to bury his hands in the other's clothes. „You will not think less of me if I... accept?“  
Thorin grunted in response to that, and with a hurried motion had shoved Kili up against the wall. Kili's hands were still safely clinging to leathery clothing, but now hastily tried to get said clothing out of his way. He closed his eyes, and tried not to concentrate too much on the deep voice that murmured his name, on the way Thorin shifted in such a heavy way compared to his lithe brother. 

But this was not his brother. This was Thorin Oakenshield, and he had offered his help, and Kili would enjoy this as much as possible.  
Soon he felt rough skin sliding against his own. Scars were strewn all over the other's skin (this could not be Fili, Kili would _never_ have allowed a single scar to appear on his brother's body) but his touch was not unpleasant, and Kili could feel his skin tingling, his face flushing, his hands shaking with need. He found the air to suddenly be very thin, and pressed his lips to Thorin's mouth in a desperate attempt to lose all of his senses, to lose himself in the situation as fully as possible. 

And he managed that. Kili drowned, drowned completely. When Thorin Oakenshield, King under the Mountain, sunk to his knees to take him into his mouth, all his thoughts were obliterated, and he forgot about the hours-long ceremony that was taking place not too far away. He forgot everything, forgot the dull ache he was carrying with himself, and as the slick warmth of the King's mouth closed around his shaft, pleasure started to build up. His body tensed, he was acutely aware of the way his muscles arched, and his hands desperately found their way through thick dark hair, pulling and digging into the scalp beneath. He gasped, moaned, and shrieked as pleasure came over him like a wild storm, ravaging his body and leaving him breathless. 

Then, Thorin wrapped him into his arms, placing kisses upon his shoulder gentler than Kili could've imagined. However, he stepped back soon, and although a tiredness overcame Kili he had not known before, he managed to smile lazily.  
„Brilliant,“ he murmured. The half-smile was back on Thorin's face.  
„If you so desire, we shall meet again.“  
Kili nodded. The short moment of bliss was gone, and immediately images of his brother flooded his thoughts. „I do so desire.“  
Thorin inclined his head, and left without any other word.

-

How blessed he should count himself. He was the direct heir to the greatest and only dwarven kingdom in Middle Earth, he was bound to a woman so incredibly kind-hearted and beautiful that he was the object of envy for so many dwarves. He was also a renowned warrior, having survived the Battle of the Five Armies successfully, despite his young age.  
And now they had been blessed with a child on the way, too, and the guilt seated deep within his stomach clenched any time he looked upon his wife. 

She was such a gentle soul, with a fiery heart that had her insist on working in the mines even when she had been declared pregnant. And she carried his babe, and he knew now that he would never have it in his heart to love either of them asmuch as they deserved. She seemed to sense it, too, and he dreaded the day she would come to talk to him about the way he never touched her more than was necessary, the way his gaze shifted into the distance when they were talking. He was afraid, but it was all naught; the marriage had made sure that nothing would ever take place between him and his brother, and he would have married Smaug himself if that would have ensured his brother's peace. 

They even regained a bit of their former bond. Often, Thorin's heirs could be found sitting together, and sometimes – rarely – Fili had managed to elicit a raw laughter from Kili, and he had known then that he could never truly feel guilty for using sweet Bryl to keep his brother at peace. He would do anything in the world for him, would hurt anyone, would kill anyone if that meant Kili would stay safe in the midst of dwarves who loved him. 

„My son,“ said Dís, her black hair streaked with the same white Thorin had acquired, „why do you worry so?“  
They were sitting in the chambers Thorin had presented her with upon her return, a dim fire burning beside them. „Is it your love that worries you?“ 

Fili stared into the fire, a faint smile covering his lips. „I always worry about my love,“ he answered, quiet and subdued. 

She nodded. Then, her gentle eyes turned hard, and Fili unconsciously straightened his back. „I am not proud of you. Have I not taught you better?“  
„What do you mean, mother?“ He could not seem to escape her straight gaze.  
„You know what I mean. I have known you better than anyone for most of your life.“ That was not true, and they both knew it. There was noone who knew Fili better than Kili, not even their mother. „I see the way you look at her, at her swelling belly, and I see the way you look at _him_.“  
Fili continued to smile. „Please, mother, I do not know what you are talking about.“ 

Dís, however, continued to talk. „I understand that it must be difficult. But that gentle soul you married does not deserve to be brought into this. Then again, I must fault myself. You are my sons. I should have stepped in before it has come to this...“  
A shiver walked down his spine. His mother knew, his mother understood what Kili did not. It was a strange feeling, and somehow wrong. „Mother,“ he said, his voice but a squeak. „I could not do anything. Had I not bound myself... he loves me as much as I love him, and the temptation... now, I can hold myself back.“  
Sadness – a state he knew all too well – filled Dís eyes. „What do you think, Fili? What would have happened? Do you truly think Thorin would have hurt any of you?“ 

He swallowed, but found he could not, for his throat was barren. 

„No,“ he replied, his voice still quiet but growing stronger. „He would not have dared to kill us, but you can be sure we would have been punished, and this way or the other, a wedding would have taken place. The line of Durin must be continued. We are his heirs, and if he had found out, he would have kept it a secret. Somebody else, though... if the people had found out... Do you not remember the tales? Do you not remember how Sóimli the Smith desired his sister's body, and was beaten to death with the stone hammer? Do you not remember the legend of Hognar whose parents were sister and brother, and who went to slaughter his whole kin in a fit of madness? Those desires are not looked kindly upon.“  
„Yes,“ Dís said, „I remember those tales, and I remember when your brother promised me he would marry you, and I remember the cold fear in my bones then. But a mother wants only the best for her children, and I see you two, and you are wasting away right under my nose. Both of you are.“  
Tears prickled in the corners of Fili's eyes at this confession. 

„It can never be, and you know it. They would kill him. Us.“ 

„I know, my son, that I have brought up a coward who would rather watch his brother die slowly than give him a chance at happiness.“ With those words, she stood from the chair she was sat in. „I will look for your father. You should go and see your wife. Surely you are worried about her.“  
Fury raised its ugly head in Fili's head. „Yes.“ he replied calmly. How did she dare to call him a coward! He had fought bravely, and he had given up his own shot at happiness to protect his brother!  
Despite the anger, though, a bitterness grew inside him, and he wanted to scream until he lost his voice. 

 

Within a few months, Bryl went into labour – too early, far too early – and Fili stood at the edge of her room, paralysed, as she screamed and screamed and screamed and blood pooled under her thighs. She lay on a bed, and the best healers under the mountain were at her side, and although he had seen many battles, this was a battle he could not help to win, and thus Fili decided to leave the room.  
He wandered the halls of Erebor, dazed, and was not surprised when his feet brought him to the chambers of his brother, his lovely, wonderful, perfect brother. Fili wanted nothing but to hold him now, or be held by him, it did not matter, it had never mattered, only wanted the warm comfort of knowing he was there, he was alive, he was breathing and well. 

If he lost the child, if he lost the woman, it would all have been for naught. 

So Fili opened the door, and what he saw had the blood in his veins turn to the coldest ice. His brother was not alone; their uncle was with him, both of them relieved of their clothing and quite obviously not noticing his arrival. Kili was pressed into the bed with Thorin above him, _inside him_ , and so many emotions came crashing down over Fili. He wanted to roar, to scream, to tear his uncle's – his own uncle's – throat out in his rage, he wanted to yell out from the top of the mountain that Kili was _his_ and he wanted to damn them all. Instead, he stood silent as a stone, watching what should not be watched, smelling the damp scent of coupling in the wet air, listening to noises that slashed at his heart. 

Then, Kili arched his back, and his face distorted into pure pleasure, and Fili wanted nothing anymore but to slump down and cry.  
„Fili!“ he heard his brother's voice cutting through the air; but Kili had not seen him, he was sure of that. He still had his eyes closed in bliss, and suddenly Fili understood, and not a single thought could be wasted for the woman he was married to who might be dying in this very moment.  
„Kili!“ he yelled as an answer; his own voice not dominated by orgasmic pleasure, but by desperation and love and, most of all, a plea for forgiveness. 

-

Kili had always paid attention, had always retained a small part of his consciousness to not cry out his brother's name when pleasure would take his mind. It was a mistake, he knew, and it would bring Thorin shame, pain and anger, and he did not want to inflict those things upon his uncle. However, he had found out that the nasty woman would bring Fili's child into the world this very day, a child that would always be a reminder of his inadequateness compared to her, a child he would be supposed to love but would never be able to; and he had been desperate for Thorin's warmth, and it had all happened so fast, and then he opened his eyes and not for one second was he even aware of Thorin (who was, after all, still buried inside of him) but locked eyes with Fili without a second thought. 

They were damned! What would Fili _think_ of him now?! Doubtless he had come here to be distracted from his worry over his wife, and instead he found his brother and his uncle copulating like wild beasts! He wanted to die on the spot to avoid the shame that hit him in the face, and his whole body flushed with blood until he felt like he was burning.

„Fili, Fili, I...“ he began but could not finish, for his uncle's voice bellowed through the room.  
„Fili!!“ he yelled, and slipped out of Kili. „Have you no shame, to enter another dwarf's chamber without making yourself known before!“ A perfect King, turning the situation from his own shame to look down on the other one, but neither Kili nor Fili paid him much mind. 

„Fili, I'm so, you should never, what do I-“ Kili began again, and sat up, naked as on the day he'd been born, and found Fili making his way over to him, hands gripping his shoulders tight and hauling him up, pressing him close, close, _too close_ , an embrace that crushed every single one of Kili's bones it seemed, and yet he wanted for nothing more in the world; and his mouth found Fili's, timidly, and he forgot about Thorin, forgot about Bryl and the whole kingdom, and only wanted to stay like this until the world would end. 

Of course, they couldn't stay like this. Somewhere far away, their uncle talked, spoke of things unimportant, and Kili could feel a hand that was decidedly not Fili's (because Fili's hands were tight around his waist, so tight, so tight) grab his shoulder, but he could not be moved, not by any force in the world, and soon Thorin ceased the attempt. He spoke some more, but Kili was gone, gone so far as he was breathing in his brother's scent, as he was breathing in the smell of firs in the night and friable sandstone, of embers and of home. 

They only parted after an eternity, for Fili to stumble back, away from Kili like a spooked animal, and Kili could not resist his hand reaching out for him. „Don't-“ he choked on the word, choked on the knowledge of having known bliss for the shortest moment to have it ripped from him out; but then he remembered Thorin, he remembered Bryl, remembered the child, and remembered that Fili did not love him the way he did.

His hand sunk, and that was when he raised his head and saw Fili's eyes, saw his soul for what seemed like the first time in years.  
They were a mirror, he saw. A mirror of himself, of his own longing, of the self-imposed abstinence, of resisting, of knowing wrong and right and not caring, of that affection that burned so hot in his blood. He felt like crying, and he knew instantly that Fili understood as well, that they would not have to speak about it, never, that both of them _knew_. 

„Leave us,“ he heard Fili say, his gaze still focussed solely on Kili. „Uncle, please, give us a few moments. This we need to talk about privately.“ Kili did not see it, but somehow he knew that Thorin had left the room, and within a second, they were rushing towards each other, and he could feel his brave, golden fool of a brother crying, could feel warm tears high up on his cheek as he kissed the rough skin, kissed until he was out of breath.

„You know the tales,“ said Fili, and Kili wanted to scream at him that they didn't matter. „They don't matter to me, nor to you, but to the others, I couldn't just, Kili, Kili, I've always known, I've always...“  
„Then why-“ he replied, could not talk much; the words came tumbling down from Fili's lips, words that calmed the storm raging within him.  
„Why, why, I could not give in, I could not allow you to fall so far down, they would have, we are not alright, this is so very, very wrong, they would have, you had a home, we had a home, it is a crime, do you not remember the tale of Sóimli the Smith, a crime, a crime-“  
Finally Kili's lips found Fili's mouth, and he made him quiet down, and they kissed and the whole world stopped moving. It must be still moving, children must still be laughing, warriors must still be fighting, but Kili knew that this still moment only belonged to the two of them. 

They breathed heavily.  
„And so I courted her, and married her, and I knew it hurt you, it must've hurt you so much, but I couldn't understand how much until-“  
Until now, of course, until he had had to see him with his uncle. Oh, Kili wanted to take all those worries from his brother's heart, but knew he couldn't. Not all of them.  
„It is all well, brother,“ he stated simply, the words whispering hotly over Fili's skin. „It was such a terrible time, but it is all well now.“ 

Fili nodded. Still they clung to each other. Kili doubted anyone could ever separate them again. 

And yet they must be separated, he realised with a sudden sharp pain. They must be separated. Fili could in no way be considered a serious dwarf, but he was at least a bit responsible, and never would he leave a wife and a child. And even if she wasn't, they _were_ brothers and would always be brothers. Theirs would always be a song unsung, and if they dared to sing it, they would do so in hushed voices, hidden deep down inside the mountain.

He wanted to weep. It could not last, it must not last.  
Fili seemed to read his thoughts; he tensed, and then their foreheads touched.  
„This cannot... we could not...“  
Kili quietly agreed. It was the life they had, their family, their kingdom, their honour on the one side, when on the other side was only their love, and this love, so intense it was wrong, should not be considered. He would give it all up, but never could he expect his brother to do the same. He stayed quiet.  
„We must part again.“

„But how,“ Kili said, going against his former resolution, „how can you expect us to part when we have learnt love?“ The longing was already clear in his voice.  
Fili breathed-- breathed endlessly- before he answered.  
„I cannot. You are right. It would be murder, it would kill the both of us.“ 

There was no solution in sight.  
„Then,“ said Kili slowly, and let his hands roam over his brother's body, tug at his clothing, and reveal a chest covered with fine hair spun of gold, „then let us not.“ And he bowed to kiss the bared skin, and he looked at his brother, guiding him towards the bed. His brother flinched. Yes, of course; Kili was being stupid; it was the bed he had just shared with their uncle.  
 _Their_ uncle, not his uncle.  
Could they become Filiandkili again? He was not sure. He hoped so. 

„It would be agony greater than now,“ Fili said, his voice oddly constrained. Kili sunk to his knees and brought Fili with him, and soon they were both on the wolfskin covering the cold ground. He let himself be coaxed on his back, Kili above him.  
„Would it really, brother?“ he answered quietly, his fingers trailing a path over the other's skin.. „Would it? Would it not be agony to forever miss this?“ His hand found a way beneath Fili's smallclothes, and together they gasped. 

To this, Fili stayed silent, except for a quiet „Go on,“ more plea than reply, really. And Kili did continue, and the desire inflamed his blood, and this was so _different_ than what he had done with Thorin, so much better, so perfect.  
„I want you,“ he whispered as he removed all the rest of Fili's clothing, as his hand found a oil so sweetly scented it always made him feel sick, but not now, now nothing could make him feel sick. „I want you now, I'll want you always, and if we are not close, I will always long for you. Once is better than not at all, and twice is better than once, is that not the truth?“  
Either it was the truth or not; all he knew was the needy sound from his brother's mouth made him almost want to beg for this to be faster. He coated his hands with the oil, and began to open up his beloved for him. 

Oh, they were damned, they were sinful and so wrong, but he found he could not stop. 

„It would be agony because... oh...“ His brother's voice wavered. Kili had to collect all his restraint to not take him right in this moment. „...because we would always... we would only live for the next moment to spend together... let us not... it is not...“ 

And Kili silenced him with a kiss again, just as he slid into him, and Fili cried out into his mouth. He cried out his name, and never had Kili felt so _whole_ as in this moment. 

It was all over far too quickly, and no other words were exchanged between them, none but their names, none but _please_ and _yes_ and _oh_ ; and Kili knew that if he died now, he would die knowing what it was like to have found completion. 

He knew they would go on. Nobody would know. He would tell Thorin that they had talked it out, that Fili had been angry with their coupling because they were uncle and nephew. Fili would return to his wife, and his child, and would live with them; and would become King under the Mountain after Thorin, and his child after him, and the Line of Durin would last. 

And he knew, he _knew_ that what they had would grow, that the guilt would not be able to quench that desire. He knew it would grow in strength, in intensity until maybe one day, it would have consumed them wholly. 

They lay there for ages, and forever.


	4. high above the earth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's guess whose mother tongue has not become English. If you guessed me: that's correct!! Congratulations! Also I seem to have developed a serious liking for bottom!Fili could someone stop me PLEASE.  
> //  
> The prompt was,  
> Fili and Kili are going about their pre-quest lives in the Blue Mountains, NOT talking about the time they had sex, even though it's driving them both insane. Angst and longing and possessiveness...leading up to an explosive second time. 
> 
> And this is the link: http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/2235.html?thread=3065275#t3065275

“Once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return.”  
― Leonardo da Vinci 

-

_This is not love, can not be love.  
What is love? Love is admiration. Love is companionship. Love is to be felt for a gemstone, for a chest of gold, for a child, for a brother, a sister, for a husband and a father, for a wife and a mother. Love is like the mountains all around them; quiet, stubborn, unrelenting but never truly seen or felt unless one seeks to think about it. Love is like their people; with no care for beauty or passion, but for safety, a love that seeks to hold, to keep, to shield. They are born of the Earth, and their love is like the Earth. _

_So this can not be love. This must be something else. But: what is it then?_

 

Kili drinks deeply from the mug. The ale is strong and good, but his senses are not dulled, stay sharp. His brother sits next to him. Too conspicuous would it be if they sat apart, for Fili and Kili are never far from each other. Still he would prefer not to breathe his brother's scent every time he inhales.  
It is not love anymore he feels for his brother. It is so much more, and so much less, and so much darker, and so much lighter. 

He wants to reach over and touch and take and claim and _mine_ and it is all he wants, wants to fill himself with his brother, wants to lose himself in him, wants to mark and to hurt and to soothe. It rips him apart, the desire, and instead of his brother, he clutches his mug just this bit too tightly. 

Fili notices, of course. 

 

_What is it then?_

_It is not only hunger, because hunger is a fading grey; hunger reaches much deeper. Hunger is an aching, dull pain that spreads until you lose your mind. Fili and Kili both know hunger too well, and this is not hunger. Hunger is slow like a lazy lake in the summer, hunger is death. But like hunger, it is always growing._

_It is not only greed, because greed is green like the trees; greed is gleeful, greed finds no end. A greedy dwarf wants more and more and more and more until there is nothing left, and that is not what they want. Fili and Kili both know greed too well, and this is not greed. Greed is like being blinded by the sun. But like greed, it whispers to them in quiet moments._

 

One single time they did give in, and one time is one time too much, Fili thinks but can't help remember how his brother has felt around him. It is not proper. Not between brothers. Were Kili not his brother, he would have sucked him dry until nothing remained, would have destroyed them both already. But Kili is his brother, and Fili has so much more to lose than a lover. He could lose a brother, his brother.  
It is not proper, it is not right, it is not _love_ , but then their hands brush as they walk past each other, and he feels as if he might burst into flames right where he is standing. He knows Kili's breathing is stumbling, knows the hunger and the greed that drove them to the act all those days ago are burning in him as brightly as they are burning in Fili. 

That is when Fili runs. It must not be. They are brothers, never would he blemish his brother's honour so, and it is not love between them. 

 

_It is not only longing, because longing is an ugly yellow shade, longing is reserved for when they are out of each other's reach. Longing is the knowledge to never see one another. Fili and Kili don't know longing very well, but still they know this is not longing. Longing is like a child standing next to a battlefield, crying as he sees his parents slain, longing is like neverending winter. But like longing, they yearn for something they could not ever possess._

_It is not only lust, because lust is bright red, lust is losing interest after fulfilment. Fili and Kili have got a taste of searing lust, and that is how they know this is not lust. Lust is the shaggy bitch that is fucked by a dog, lust is carnal and wild and disgusting. But like lust, it is feral and wanting and burns their bones to ashes._

 

He looks at him and he looks at him and he doesn't see him, he sees only the dwarf moaning and begging and pleading, and he wants to lay his hands on him, wants to rake his nails down his back, wants to yell it out loud – that Fili is his and he is Fili's, and whoever would disagree would soon find himself one head shorter. But he can't, and he keeps it all bottled inside, until it starts to eat at him. 

It is not love, he is sure of that. It may be hunger and greed and longing and lust, but it is not love. No dwarf has ever heard of love between brothers, not in this way, and so it can not be love. That is logical, is it not? 

He thinks it is not as he stares at Fili, idly playing with one of his braids as they sit in one of their uncle's councils. His gaze darkens, clouds with that which can not be love.

 

_It is made of hunger and greed and longing and lust and so much more. There is desire and affection and warmth, fire even. And that is definitely not the dwarven way to love. Fire is destructive, fire leaves nothing but charred bones behind, fire is over in a minute and fire burns far too hot to be considered stable._

_But fire burns in the smithies, too, and who if not dwarves have learnt to tame fire?_

 

In the middle of the night does Kili comes into his room, without asking for permission. „Fili,“ he says and his tone is raw. He might be crying, Fili is not sure of that, but he is on his feet in bare seconds. 

He must shove him away, he thinks. He must not allow this. Honor. His brother's honour. Their uncle. Their mother. All of them. But then, nobody but Kili, and he understands, he does. All the times they looked at one another, all the times they touched, and suddenly Kili is all around him, tugging at his hair, biting his lower lip, growling like an untamed beast. 

 

_Not love, not at all. It burns them, and it will kill them both one day, it is a desire too intense to survive. They know the stories of dwarves starving, succumbing to their greed, break over their longing, and destroy what they have because of lust. They know the dangers.  
They know, and will always know, that they're brothers. They share the same blood, the same molten fire runs through their veins, the same burning desire._

 

Neither is it gentle, nor slow, nor experienced. They are at it in seconds, hours-days-weeks-months-years-lifetimes of smouldering embers kindled anew to roaring heat. Fili claws at his skin, and rips out some of his untamed hair. Kili himself bites the sour skin of his brother, bites until he draws blood, until he can taste their fire. His need almost makes him faint, and when their bodies are finally, finally, finally joined again, he slams into his brother, his brother, his brother until he cannot say where his life begins and where Fili's life ends. Someone is crying, and it must be him because it is not Fili. Then Fili is shouting, shouting his name, and clenches around him. 

Kili knows that this is _his_ place, between his brother's wide-spread legs, coming inside him, filling him to the brim. It is dirty, and filthy, and so wrong, but it tastes like victory. 

„Do you love me,“ he asks quietly after Fili, too, has come, has come all over their bellies.

 

_It's not love, must never be love, will never be love; it is twisted and they both know it's wrong, and they both hate themselves for it, and yet it's love all the same._

 

„Yes,“ says Fili. And that is the truth they believe in.


	5. he laughed and laughed and laughed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> English? Hey, English? Would you kindly become my mother tongue? No? Ah... okay, alright... sorry to have asked.  
> //  
> Prompt: When the group are captured by the goblins, the goblin king notices that Kili is very pretty and decides he wants him. This is met by outrage and general angry protectiveness from all the other dwarves.  
> So he decides to give them a choice. Either they can relent and let the goblin king and all his minions rape Kili, or the dwarves can do it themselves. All of them.  
> What is decided is up to the author, but if the dwarves do go through with it, they all have to do it. Much angst and h/c.
> 
> Link: http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/3138.html?thread=3987266#t3987266
> 
> Kinda NonCon-ish, obviously, although from all sides - neither does Kili want to be fucked, nor do any of the dwarves want to fuck him.

There is music in the air, shrill singing and the stomping of hundreds of thousands of feet setting a hypnotising rhythm. 

„Look at the maid,“ says the Goblin King, his words echoing through the vast cave, each single word pronounced the way one would savour a ripe peach, „so innocent, so beautiful.“  
The others are looking at him, Kili realises, but he keeps staring defiantly at the Goblin King, and none of them speaks one single word.  
„Let us sweeten the waiting for our old friend, my people!“ The goblins start shrieking in joy; Kili does not understand what is happening, but then again, he rarely does. „Who wants to start desecrating the pretty maid?“ A few goblins jump up and down, raising all of their arms in the air, and that's when Thorin speaks.

„Take me instead.“  
The Goblin King only laughs, and Kili still doesn't understand what is happening. „Uncle-,“ he begins, but Dori restrains him. „Do not talk,“ he murmurs, „he wants to save you.“  
„Save me from what,“ asks Kili, trying hard to keep his voice as low as Dori's, who only sighs.  
„Coupling,“ he answers, and Kili grows pale. The laughter of the Goblin King has faded by now, and the music, the dissonant singing of many creatures seated on steps far away from them continues. 

„Do you think you are prettier than that one, Nobody?“ says the Goblin King, and carries out a crude gesture. „What an illusion! But, you know, if _you_ want to take him instead... no, wait! _All_ of you! Ah!“ He laughs again. „It is your choice, Nobody! Shall we take him, or you?“ 

Thorin does not answer to that. Instead, he turns his head, looks at Kili, but his gaze does not find Kili's eyes. He turns around again.  
„The latter,“ he says, his voice small. The dwarves mumble incoherent words, and most all of them pale along with Kili now, but the Goblin King's laughter cuts through everything.  
„Very well! Leave them some space, friends!“ The goblins scurrying along them hurry to leave them a large circle on the stoney surface, and take up relaxed positions around this circle. Thorin's stance is hard and concentrated, and his gaze wanders from each member of their company to another. 

*

„Ori,“ it seems as if Thorin has used the time to make a decision, „you go first.“ Kili looks over at Ori, who looks terrified.  
„Me?“ he squeaks, frightened, and clutches his elbows. „Why, w-“  
„A subject does not question his King's orders.“ Thorin responds without truly responding. Ori lets his head hang in shame. Kili wants to ask the very same thing. _Why_ , why is this happening to them, to him? As he looks at Ori and the horrified expression on his face – as if it was him about to be tortured – Kili straightens his spine. He is still a prince, and he will not cower, and he will be strong for too-gentle Ori. 

„That's right,“ he says, and his voice almost doesn't waver, „let us get this done quickly,“ and he bans all fear from his words. He will not show fear, although he has never once thought that the first joining in his life would be with _Ori_ of all dwarves.  
Looking at the small, flustered face, he was sure Ori had not thought so either. 

„Cease the idle talk!!“ The Goblin King's voice cuts through all other noises, and Kili unsheathes his body. The goblins around them leer and joke and prate excited, but he does not pay them much mind. Instead, he looks over at Fili, who has gone to stand next to their uncle.  
His lion-haired brother nods softly, his usually so honest face now a paralysed mask of terror; still they look at each other, truly look at each other, and that is all encouragement Kili needs. 

„Do you know how this works,“ Kili says, quietly, as he draws Ori close. Ori nods and fumbles with his belt.  
„I am so sorry, Mister Kili, I truly am,“ he murmurs, and sobs break through his voice. „I really do not, I apologise so much, but it will be over quick, I promise, I promise...“ His hands are badly shaking. Kili finds himself smiling wretchedly.  
„Alright,“ he says, more to calm Ori down than himself, „I trust you.“ And Ori nods again, and he strokes himself to get hard – after all, Kili, as splendid as his bare body must look, is well aware that this situation is far from hardening. 

„Close your eyes, Ori,“ he says, and hears the Goblin King thumping impatiently on the ground. Ori obeys, and closes his eyes, and he grows hard; and that is when Kili lets himself fall to the ground, and spreads his leg in front of the younger dwarf. 

„Hurry,“ he whispers, but this time his voice is wavering. He wants to close his eyes himself, wants to detach himself from his body, but knows that it wil not work.  
Then, somehow, the tip of Ori's shaft has found the way to Kili's entrance. He's not large, certainly not compared to Kili himself, or his brother, or his father, who are the only other dwarves he has ever seen naked; he's not large, but it still hurts, and he wonders about those dwarves who let other male dwarves do _this_ to them. 

Kili cannot hold back a cry. He looks to his uncle, and to his brother, and he can clearly see that Thorin's hand is wrapped tightly around Fili's arm. Probably to hold them both back. His uncle's eyes are closed, whereas his brother's are wide open.  
„I am so sorry,“ whimpers little Ori, and Kili inhales audibly.  
„Just keep going,“ he presses out of his mouth with force, „just keep going.“  
And Ori does just that. His hands are gripping Kili's hips awkwardly, and his movements are clumsy, speaking of no or little experience. It's painful, but at least it does not last long, and Ori cries as he draws out and sits on the ground limply. 

Silence falls over the goblins. Then, their King speaks.  
„Did he reach a climax?“ he asks a minion, who hurries to closely inspect them both. Kili wants to fight it off, but it does not even touch him, only looks at Ori scrutinisingly. Then, it shakes its head. The Goblin King does not seem pleased by this.  
„I shall be generous,“ he says, „but the next of you better orgasm inside that sweet mare, show me you're having as much _fun_ as we do!“ 

Ashamed, Ori tucks himself in again, and trots back to the group who are huddled closely together. Kili stares at them for a few moments, desperation too clear in his features, he thinks. That is when Thorin opens his eyes again. 

** 

„Glóin, you are young. Go next. Do not disappoint us.“  
Glóin looks as if he's about to protest. Of course he would protest, Kili thinks; he wants to stay faithful to his beloved wife, he is probably not sure if he can pull off what is needed of him, and compared to his wife, Kili can not be a very arousing sight.  
He does not protest in the end, though, and only makes his way over to Kili instead. 

„So sorry, boy,“ he says, his voice low and gruff. „I cannot imagine how rough this must be for you, so very young.“ Kili remembers his son, Gimli, and understands that Glóin was about to protest because he imagines his own son in Kili's place, a young dwarfling, and wants to protect him above all else.  
He tries to smile. Kili has always been good when it comes to smiling, and he succeeds.  
„It's nothing,“ he lies, and faces away from Glóin, from all of them; he's on his knees, his nails scraping at the stone underneath him. He almost shies away, but Glóin takes his thighs in his hands, and laps at his burning, already stretched hole with his tongue for a few sweet moments.  
„So sorry,“ he repeats as his rough hands grab him and he glides into him, and this does not take long either – except that Glóin comes inside of Kili, and they both yell something at the same time – Kili just a scream, but Glóin a female name, and Kili feels so ashamed, feels tears prickling in his eyes suddenly. 

Glóin stumbles back, not without a surprisingly gentle tap on Kili's back. 

The Goblin King is satisfied, or at least he does not enter an objection, and from the reactions around him, it is clear that the goblins are beginning to enjoy themselves overly much. 

*** 

Thorin's voice does not waver at all. It is strong; it is a true King's voice, Kili thinks with affection. A King who does what needs to be done. He's shivering, and his lower body hurts like the time he has accidentally grabbed a necklace fresh from the fire.  
„Balin,“ he says, and a shudder strengthens Kili's shivering. Will the old dwarf even be able, be able to? He is suddenly afraid; the goblins seem to be in a good mood, but what will happen if he does not entertain them anymore? 

He looks over at Balin who has a determined, if slightly nervous look on his face.  
„Laddie,“ he says, and draws him to his feet, into a short, warm embrace. „We should not have come here. It is all our fault.“ And his tone sounds so hurt, so broken, that Kili can't help but pat his shoulder. 

This time, it is not over quickly. Balin takes his time with him, is slow at the beginning, and Kili is thankful it does not quite hurt so much anymore. He is stretched considerably now, and Glóin seed serves to ease the way. The slow, considerate motions are also feeling much better Ori's fumbling and Glóin's hasty slamming, and he almost, almost, almost enjoys this a bit, he thinks, before the older dwarf finishes inside him, fills him just this bit more, his beard tickling his bare back. 

**** 

Kili does not think that there is a system in the way Thorin chooses who's to go next, but he is sure there must be. His uncle, his King must have a plan.  
„Bifur,“ he says, his voice clear, and Kili shuts his eyes in frustration. He knows they will _all_ take him, knows it, but does not want to think about it. Bifur is a strange fellow, and he can not expect much comfort from him – then again, he tells himself he does not need anyone's comfort.  
Kili tries to stand, and fails – his thighs won't hold him. He looks at his brother again, who seems to not even have blinked, and there's sheer, pure hatred on Fili's face, and Kili- Kili calls out to him. „Look away,“ he calls, desperation lacing his voice, does not want his brother to see him like this, and does not want to be the cause of the pain that's writ so clearly in his features. But Fili shakes his head. „Please,“ Kili adds, and that is when he hears Fili's voice, so much quieter than he's ever heard him before – „I can't, I must watch out for you,“ and Kili feels his heart breaking.

Bifur is already unlacing his breeches. He mumbles something, and says Kili's name, and suddenly he realises that he _does_ try to comfort him. He almost smiles then. 

Bifur takes him even gentler than Balin. 

***** 

Thorin waves his hand. „Dori,“ he says, and that is when the Goblin King interrupts.  
„That's all good fun,“ he says, and Kili does not look at him, does not want to see the enormous chin heaving, „but let's try for a bit of variation. Suck him, pretty maid,“ and Kili closes his eyes before opening them again. 

It is not only his life he is stalling for, he knows, it is all their lives, and so gets down on his knees in front of Dori. 

He is huge, and Kili is kind of grateful that he won't enter his hole but only his mouth. He tries to wet the inside of his mouth. „Lad,“ says Dori, „you won't have to swallow, alright? I'll pull out.“ Kili nods awkwardly before going through with it and taking him into his mouth. 

It tastes highly unpleasant, he thinks, and he yearns to draw back, but then Dori's hand is already tangled in his hair, shoving him closer, and he has no other chance but to suck him, and he remembers the Goblin King's words – they must all be brought to climax, and so he tries his best while simultaneously wanting nothing but to retch, wanting nothing but to leave this place behind and forget forget _forget_. 

In the end, Dori stays true to his promise, and relieves himself onto the ground. Both of them are panting, and Kili tries to bane the sense of choking to the back of his mind.

He does not quite succeed. 

******

The next to be sent to him – and Kili recognises the quiet, almost defeated voice his uncle uses – is Dwalin. Kili has always liked his uncle's best friend quite well, even if he scared him and Fili a bit when they were little dwarflings. 

„Don't move,“ he growls in that low voice of his as he takes Kili; takes him rough and somehow even needy. Kili feels shame creeping up inside him he has not felt with any of the others, and the urge to retch grows stronger with the renowned warrior buried inside of him, grunting loudly, his wet pleasured noises coming from deep within his throat, and when he releases him, Kili collapses to the ground in a pile of boneless flesh. 

*******

He has lost the ability to count the remaining dwarves, and still he does not want to think about what is yet going to happen (the worst, the worst is still going to happen) when Óin is sent to him. Kili does not much notice anything during their coupling, neither if Óin is particularly gentle or rough with him; the only thing he does notice is that he beginning to leak, that sticky white fluid is coating his thighs. 

********

After Óin, Kili finds his senses to be sharpened again. It is Nori who is sent to him next, and he does not know what to think of him – they have not talked much, the only thing Kili knows about him is his infamous reputations, and whereas Kili has been a troublemaker from the moment he could stand on his own feet, he would never break dwarvish law, not outright, as he has supposedly done.

Nori does not talk to him, not at all. Instead, he pulls at his hair, draws his head back as he takes him from behind, wilder than any beast out there. He growls dark words, and nimble fingers work their way around Kili's neck, squeezing his throat, fingernails raking along his skin. Two, then three fingers are forced into his mouth and Kili finds he is past caring. 

Nori comes with a scream that sounds victorious only to Kili's ears, he thinks. 

*********

When large hands clasp his face, he dizzily recognises Bofur's face, smiling as kindly as the sun in the sky. „Laddie,“ he whispers, his voice barely audible over the shrieking of the goblins. „It is over soon, there is only four of us left, then you can rest. You can sleep, and we'll eat some, and you can rest some more, that sound good to you?“ 

Kili wants to say – _yes_ , he wants to say, that sounds good to him – but instead only manages a weak nod. 

„Good,“ and he strains to listen to Bofur's voice, and then he finds he can talk.  
„Does he watch,“ he asks, his breathing shallow, and Bofur looks at him without understanding. „Does he still watch.“ 

„Yes, laddie, he does,“ replies Bofur, „he is the King. He is doing his best, you know he is. And he is waiting, stalling for time, he is trying to spare you the worst, waiting for Gandalf, or for you to pass out, so you don't have to...“ 

Kili sighs wearily. „Yes,“ he says, „doing his best.“ 

And then Bofur – Bofur does not take him, does not fuck him, does not claim him. He tries to make love, Kili thinks, he touches him, touches his skin, fingertips shivering but secure in their movements, he is incredibly gentle, he strokes and pets and murmurs sweet words into his ears as he is bowed over him, and then he touches his own shaft, long fingers rubbing circles, making their way to his balls and back, and despite the shame, despite every inch of his body screaming in protest, in fatigue, in pain, he comes in Bofur's hand, with him inside of him, and it's one short blissful moment to hold on to. 

**********

As soon as he is able to, Kili looks up to find his uncle's eyes, his brother's smile, and finds none of the two.  
„Bombur,“ says Thorin Oakenshield, and his voice is so strained it might just rip every moment now. 

Bombur is a gentle soul, Kili knows that, and besides, he is the best cook he's ever tasted meals from, but still he can't stop himself as he tries to evade him. But Bombur catches hold of his wrist, and looks at him out of eyes sunken in deeply into his face. 

„You have been prepared by the others,“ he says, his tone pitiful, and suddenly Kili realises they _all_ pity him, and he feels just this bit sicker. He tries to hold up his head, straighten his spine, and look the other dwarf in the eyes.  
„Why, I need preparation to take you, you think?“ he quips weakly, the shadow of a smirk on his lips. Bombur nods in earnest. 

He understands why Bombur has said that, and despite all the cocks that were inside of him, filling him, despite all the fluid easing the way, a scream is ripped out of his mouth, a scream that is mirrored by his brother's voice somewhere far away. 

***********

After Bombur, Kili lies splayed on the ground, staring at the ceiling worlds above them in silence for an eternity. No sound reaches his ears, nothing, nothing, until his uncle's voice is so close he shudders.  
„Kili,“ Thorin says. „Kili.“  
Kili does not respond.  
„You must forgive me. This is not what...“ He seems to search for words, but then gives up as he draws Kili up on his knees. Kili wants to lie down again, wants to dream and drown.  
„Kili. Sister-son. Go away. Go away inside. You can do it. After me, it must be your brother. You must learn to go away _now_ , before it is too late.“ 

Kili tries to focus his gaze on Thorin.  
„Too late?“ he repeats, his voice creaking.  
„Before it is your brother's turn. Before something is... destroyed between you two.“  
„Ah.“ Kili closes his eyes. „Then it is already too late.“ 

Thorin looks at him out of hard, grey eyes.  
„Forgive me, forgive me...“ he murmurs, and as he slides into Kili – he does not even truly notice it anymore, so used up is he – he says those words again and again and again, repeating them as if he's stuck, and Kili is not so sure anymore if he begs to be forgiven by him, or by Thorin himself, or by his sister.

When Thorin leaves his body, so do the first tears he allows to drop out of his eyes. 

************

„That was all,“ he hears his uncle say to the Goblin King from a distance.  
The monster just continues to laugh, to laugh, to laugh until Kili wants to sew his mouth shut. „No, Nobody, that was not all of you. There's still blondie,“ he chuckles. „Let blondie have his fun, too!“  
„No,“ snarls Thorin, „we did as you asked, Fili will not be forced to do this, this will not happen,“ and Kili senses vibrations as the Goblin King stands.  
„No?“ he repeats Thorin's word. „Very well, then if I may take his place...“  
And Fili is at his side faster than it should be possible, hands Kili knows better than his own slung around his shoulders. „Fine!“ he hears his brother's voice, and knows that still he is staring only at him. „I will do it!“ 

Kili can only imagine the pained expression their uncle must be wearing in that moment. It is not so bad as the two seem to think, too. He already feels like a wreck, so very broken, and his brother will not be able to damage him further, he knows.  
The Goblin King sits down again, smirking. „Are they brothers, Nobody?“ Thorin doesn't answer. That prompts the creature to laugh so loud Kili's hands wander to his ears, trying to go away inside as Thorin has told him to.

He does not succeed. 

„Fili,“ he whimpers, and is shocked by how utterly ruined his voice sounds.  
„Shh,“ is the only reply, and Fili places a soft kiss on his forehead. He holds him in his arms still, holds a body that has burnt down to embers, dull pain mixing with infinite shame clouding Kili's mind. 

Kili wonders how he can still _touch_ him. He has watched all of them fuck him like a bitch, how can he still muster up the courage to hold him? How can that even be possible? He's watched it all, and yet does not seem to be disgusted.  
He has watched him being taken by their uncle, Kili realises, and feels like he might finally faint. 

He does not manage that, though, and feels Fili's lips on his forehead again, warm and reassuring and so, so loving.  
„Do you know, Kili,“ he says, and Kili closes his eyes. When they were children, when Kili would be afraid of going to sleep (but he has never voiced that out loud, of course – he was always the bravest dwarfling the world has ever seen!) his brother would always tell him of beautiful things, of butterflies and birds and pie; of their mother's love, of their father's beard (and vice versa); he told him stories, always with the happiest endings, but Kili does not remember the endings to those stories because by that point, he had always fallen asleep, soothed by the calming voice of his brother. 

That voice he recognises now, even if desperation is glowing underneath it.  
„Do you know of the bravest hero who ever lived?“ he asks, and Kili shakes his head. 

Fili moves him, until Kili sits on his lap, and his arms are still slung tightly around his back.  
„He was a dwarf from the Blue Mountain, that great hero. He was the cleverest dwarf, and the quickest, and the strongest, and he had mastered all the weapons at a young age, he knew the axe, the sword and the warhammer, but the weapon he always prefered was the bow-“  
„No,“ Kili keens, „don't tell me about him, he is no hero, tell me about his brother.“  
„His brother is not a hero,“ Fili quietly replies, and Kili distantly registers that he slides into him. He doesn't dwell on it. „His brother could not even save him.“  
„His brother is the fiercest hero,“ and Kili hears his own voice growing stronger as he objects. „His brother, his brother has taken an arrow into his leg while defending him once. His brother is brave and a warrior, his brother, I like his brother.“ 

„Fine, a story... a story about the hero's brother...“ A moan mixes in with Fili's voice, but he keeps it low, and still holds Kili pressed tightly to his body. „The... the hero's brother once went into a forest while following a deer, and there he got lost, for three whole days, and he slept beneath the trees and wished that someone would, would find him...“  
Kili listens, concentrates on the words and not on the shaft he is impaled on.  
„... and he drank from the lakes, and he tried to hunt squirrels, but he failed, they were just to quick... and... and then he thought about eating insects, but then he was found...“  
„Who found him,“ asks Kili, knowing the answer.  
„Why, the hero of course,“ replies Fili. His breath is caught in his throat, Kili hears it well, and he feels the warmth filling him, and he tries to keep his body from bursting. 

„And what then,“ he asks, wanting to hear his brother's voice, drowning out the Goblin King's manic laughter.  
„Then,“ says Fili, and he leans forward, and their foreheads meet, „then the hero and his brother hid from the other dwarves who searched for them, and, and...“  
„And they jumped down from a tree right in front of them,“ Kili continues the story. „And how shocked the other dwarves looked! The hero, the hero... the hero and his brother, they laughed for days afterwards.“  
„Yes,“ Fili replies to that.

Kili realises his brother is crying.  
So is he. 

And the Goblin King is still laughing.


	6. invincible

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 18x3 sentences. This is more of a mini-fill than anything else. 
> 
> Prompt was "Fili/Kili, Dementia", whole prompt here: http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/3138.html?thread=3907394#t3907394
> 
> It's _just_ what it says on the cover, I am afraid.

When they are young, they never think about growing old. They are invincible, immortal: the rest of their lives seems like forever. Nothing can stop them. 

Kili may be his brother's biggest admirer, but most everyone agrees with him - Fili is the best King Erebor could have wished for. They are still invincible, because they are together and they are strong and their folk loves them. Yes, their folk loves them almost as much as they love each other. 

"Have we not reached perfection," Fili asks, his hand lazily streaking through Kili's hair. Kili hums in agreement. They are on top of the world, and think that they'll never fall. 

But where the air is thin, the fall is steeper than anywhere else. "Do you know where I left my sword," Fili asks, and Kili looks at him bewildered. He's asked this just a moment ago already.

Their world does not know the diagnosis, but they know the sickness. "It is age," says a young healer regretfully when they tell him to make it better. "I cannot help my King." 

"Nothing is wrong with you," says Kili as they lie in their bed in the night, and it's so dark they can't even see each other, only smell, feel, listen to each other, and that's enough. "You truly think so?" Fili asks. Kili does not answer. 

It is slow in the beginning, little things. But Fili is a good king, and he has decreed that Dain's son will be King after him. Kili does not want to be king without his brother. 

"How did our mother look," Fili asks, shivering violently as they take their supper. Kili almost chokes on his food. "Beautiful." 

Fili gets lost while hunting one day, and that is the last day he sees the world outside of Erebor. He is panicked, and when Kili finds him, he's hiding behind a tree. Little is left of the warrior at whose side he once fought.

He sleeps a lot, and when he is awake, he likes to listen to Kili's voice, his stories, his breathing. Dain's son is sitting the throne in place of his great-cousin for now, but Fili is still Erebor's King, and will be until he dies. Kili loves and hates to be with his brother now. 

"Who are you," Fili asks, smiling gently. "You look very old, are you a friend of uncle Thorin?" Kili wants to cry, wants to scream, wants to shake Fili, wants to kiss him and wants to hit him, but all he does is shake his head. 

"Kili, are you there?" Of course Kili is there. "I dreamt you had gone, had gone because I've become such a, such a, such an inconvenience, such an inconvenience that you left me." 

In one moment he tells him how much he loves him, and in the next asks who he is. Or where he has hidden his brother. "Has my brother left me?" 

Kili can't deny that he wants to leave, sometimes; his bones are weary, he is old and tired himself, and every time Fili mistakes him he dies a little bit faster. But he cannot go before his brother. He needs to be there for his brother, for his King. 

"Who are you," Fili cries out and his fist hits Kili's face, and he can taste blood on his tongue, blood not nearly as bitter as what he's feeling in that moment. He tries to hold Fili, tries to hold him close, tight, tries to comfort, but Fili struggles and fights and runs. 

Kili finds him in an abandoned shaft. Fili is crying. They embrace one another, and Fili gently strokes his bloodied lip, and they kiss and stay in the darkness for hours. 

They are not invincible anymore. Fili's hand is shaking in Kili's, shaking badly, and he knows he can do nothing to ease his brother's suffering, and it's tearing him apart. "Will you tell me a story, a story about two brothers?" 

By the time Kili has finished the story, his brother has stopped trembling.  
He is cold.  
And Kili is forced to live for five more years before death finally, finally claims him.


	7. not particularly dangerous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhm I tried ... funny?? Wow I must be out of my mind. I don't even know. Also it turned serious at the end. But I tried funny! Whee!   
> // Prompt: Can I just have a scenario in which Fili and Kili think they are going to die/be separated and blurt out all declarations of their undying love for each other. But then the situation is quickly resolved (maybe thanks's to thorin's majesty) which makes them realise just how silly they reacted. But of course it doesn't stop them from doing it again when another danger surfaces.  
> And it goes on and on untill thorin just yells at them to stop being such dramakings and actually do something about it.
> 
> Link: http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/3138.html?thread=4972866#t4972866

He has better things to do than to take much offense at his ridiculous sister-sons' behaviour. He truly has, he is sure of that; days spent travelling until all their muscles are sore, nights never bringing true rest for the enemy is always out there, waiting for just a moment of carelessness. He truly has better things to do, he tries to assure himself, has worthier things to lose sleep about.   
There is death and pain and most possibly failure waiting for them at the end of the road. Few of his companions knew that as well as he does; his inexperienced, wood-walking sister-sons are not aware of the constant threat. That, Thorin had thought for a long time, before they would prove him better. 

It is on the eleventh day of their journey, and it is not particularly dangerous, he finds. They need to cross a river, and the bridge is a small thing, creaking beneath his pony's hooves. All of the company has crossed the river, except for his heirs as they usually make up either the front or the tail of their trail (and are never to be separated, Thorin knows well). Kili's pony does not handle the water far below well, it turns out, and throws him off. Thorin pauses his own pony; Kili has almost fallen over the edge of the bridge, holding on with one hand. 

Fili is on his feet within a second, grabbing at his brother's hand. „Please, take my hand!!“ he scream with such a ferocity Thorin's steed whips its head back in irritation. „Kili, I can't lose you, I could not live without you! Do not fall!“   
Kili's voice is heard clearly, too. „I fear I am too weak!“ Thorin grows annoyed. Even if he were to let go of the bridge, he would fall about six or seven feet; there would not even be a scratch, and the torrent was a lazy thing. Who do these two think they are, heroes from an ancient tale?   
Tears are glittering in the edges of Fili's eyes, he sees, puzzled and bewildered. „Do not force me to live without the sunlight in your eyes!“ He's still screaming, and Thorin huffs. 

Finally, Kili grasps his brother's hand and lets him draw him back up onto the bridge. They stay there, Fili on his knees, Kili in front of him, their hands wound tightly together, and Thorin thinks that if he stays silent, they will stay there forever. So he must speak.   
„Kili, Fili! We're riding, come!“ 

And they hurry to rejoin the other dwarves, and in the night, in front of the fire, they laugh about the incident. Fili, at least, has the shame to blush faintly; Kili simply roars along with the other dwarves who are told of his little mishap. Of course his blasted sister-sons tell them the river was three hundred feet wide and six hundred feet below the bridge, and it is a lie easily lookeed through because, after all, they _all_ passed that bridge. 

 

The next time it happens is even less dangerous. It is a hawk, Thorin thinks, or a pigeon (animals all look the same to him either way), and it seems to mistake Fili with a rodent, or horse, or whatever those birds usually hunt. Suddenly it's _there_ , flapping and screeching and its claws are tangling with Fili's fair hair, and Kili is grabbing him by his shoulders, and the bird is going mad, and it's lashing out in fear.   
„I will not let you be devoured by this wild beast!“ roars Kili as he draws an arrow, one hand still clasped on Fili's shoulder. Is the boy mad?!, thinks Thorin as he practically jumps down his pony. Surely he does not plan to shoot the animals perched atop Fili's head! Not even Kili's aim is good enough for that.   
„Go!!“ screams Fili, pushing at Kili. „Flee! Do not put yourself in danger for me!“ The animal is still screeching, and the other dwarves are watching the brothers with bemused expressions. Thorin has reached Kili and calmly takes the bow from his hand. Kili does not even seem to notice; he stumbles backwards, his lower lip quivering. Oh, Thorin wonders, what foul act has he committed to deserve such lackwits as heirs?   
„I will not leave you to die alone!“ Kili grabs hold of Fili again. 

Thorin decides he's had enough. There's snickering behind his back, and he steps forward to gently disentangle the bird. It flaps away with pouting noises. 

„You're alive,“ Kili yells, and the brothers embrace each other. 

Thorin sighs. 

Something must be done about this _situation_ , he thinks, but the quest still occupies his thoughts too much. 

 

It is strange, he thinks; in the face of minor nuisances, those two dwarves would speak words pathetic enough for elves (bah), but as a real threat comes upon them, they stay quiet. „Grab my hand,“ yells Fili, and his heirs are separated, and – they remain silent. It is Thorin who shouts for Fili; Kili is too shocked to say anything, he presumes. Afterwards, when they're reunited, they stay oddly quiet, too, but cling to each other a desperation he has not seen since his father has clung to the Arkenstone. 

 

As the others prepare to lay down to sleep, he touches his eldest sister-son's elbow. „Fili, Kili,“ he says in an almost hushed tone, „let us talk.“ Fili nods. He's still clinging madly to his brother. 

„I hope you have learnt from this day.“ They look at him without comprehending; he is acutely aware of that, so he elaborates. „When true fear to _lose_ the most precious treasure in your life grasps you, it does not do well to cry out in panic. Neither is it a good thing to freeze. I know that it might be a horrible thought, but you must learn to deal with your fear in a mature, productive way.“ 

They stare at him for a few moments before Kili speaks up. His fingers are buried in Fili's arm.  
„You don't understand,“ he states simply. It is not harsh, or aggressive; he says these words as if he were telling Thorin about the weather.   
Fili nods. „It is true, you do not understand, you can not understand.“ 

He wants to laugh and cry, but Thorin Oakenshield does neither. His face stays a perfect mask. „Do you think you two are the only dwarves who love? Do you think your love is special? Do you think you are the only ones who have found their One, and fear losing them again? You are young, and may not be aware of it, but this is a fear all of us share. And you might truly lose one another if you do not stay strong and fierce in the face of danger. Heed my words.“ 

They keep staring at him, and he is sharply reminded of how very _young_ they are. 

Fili inclines his head. „Very well, uncle.“ he says, his voice as tight as his hold on his brother.


	8. fire & stone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup oh Fili angst is my favourite angst, so I couldn't resist typing down something short and sweet.  
> // Prompt: Kili is Dis's favorite, because he is her dark-haired baby boy who looks exactly like his uncles in the line of kings. Kili is Thorin's favorite, because even when they clash, he can understand the boy's hot-temper and stubborn-headedness. Kili is Dwalin's favorite, because he has the brash fighting-spirit that all dwarves admire.  
> Fili is no one's favorite. He loves them all so much that it's okay, but it still hurts sometimes.  
> Alternately: Fili is Balin's favorite, because he knows that his devoted, thoughtful, reserved little protegee has all the makings of a great king.
> 
> Link: http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/3393.html?thread=5448513#t5448513

His first word is 'Mama', they tell him later. He used to cling to her before he could even walk, tiny fists always grabbing at her skirts, her hair, her beard. Fili _does_ love his mother; he would give anything to make her happy, to have this tired face smile at him, this weary voice sing him lullabies of a home far away. He loves his mother and his mother loves him; and when she is pregnant with another child, he is so very afraid that he cries.  
He doesn't remember much of that time, as he was barely more than a babe, but he does remember the tight feeling in his chest whenever he thought of his upcoming sibling. There was no love in his heart for the unborn child, but only fear: Fili feared to be forgotten by his mother.  
He is not forgotten, it turns out, but the moment he sees her taking her first look of his tiny, pink brother with dark hair, he knows he has _lost_ , although he is not sure of what exactly he has lost. 

„Your mother, boy,“ says Balin to him in the night, „she has lost them all, her grandfather, her father, her mother, and her brothers.“  
„But uncle Thorin, she has not lost uncle Thorin!“ Fili interjects. He has been crying silently, but lets nobody see it except for the wise old dwarf into whose chambers he has sneaked. His brother wails and keeps him awake in the night, and so he flees. He is a bit angry with his mother, but feels very guilty of that. She is his mother, and he should not feel angry at her for loving him less. It must be his fault, either way, he thinks.  
„Oh, she has lost him, boy. Your uncle Thorin is not the same dwarf her brother Thorin has been, all these years back.“ That, Fili does not understand. _His_ brother will always stay his brother. „Either way, Kili looks so much like Frerin it is astonishing. She watched him fall in the battle, her brother, but could not help him. Do grant her to love little Kili for reminding her of her beloved brother.“  
„Hmpf,“ argues Fili, but it is not good. He is a bit less angry, though, and more frustrated. So it isn't that he's not good enough, but only that he's born with the wrong appearance. If he looked more like his dead uncle, surely she would love him more; but that he cannot change _that_ , and really, he must learn to live with it. He still loves her enough for both of them.  
He smiles at Balin. 

 

Fili tries to be _good_. From a young age, he is very, very aware of the responsibility upon his narrow shoulders, of the ancient blood in his veins. More often than not he shows his uncle his learnings, and more often than not his uncle does not spare him a second glance. That changes when little Kili is old enough to walk, old enough to accompany Fili. He senses it in the air, and although he is still too young to fully understand, he knows that Thorin would never speak to him as freely as he does to Kili – they clash, it is true, Kili squeaking he wants more food and less studying, and Thorin glaring at him. Fili tries to defuse the situation, but in the end, he always finds himself shoved away; for after the words comes physical conflict, and his brother's tiny fists bumping against Thorin's chest in frustration always make his uncle _laugh_. Fili knows that _he_ could never make his uncle laugh. 

„Your uncle, lad,“ says Balin to him in the night, „was never taught to be a King. When we lived in Erebor, his grandsire and father were still alive and well. They thought they'd have all the time in the world to make a true King of him. Thorin was taught to fight, sure, and smith, as all dwarves are, and he taught himself how to lead. But Thorin was never taught to rule wisely, was never taught his numbers; he has never had the opportunity to study, as you have now.“  
Fili shrugs. He still searches Balin's company when he can't sleep, and the old dwarf always seems to be glad to talk to him.  
He doesn't really _like_ studying, he does admit, and doesn't get enough recognition for the battle he fights every day against dusty old books. He would much rather want to join his brother out in the forest playing rangers with the other young dwarves, but he knows he needs to be _good_ ; he knows it as well as he knows that he has _lost_ this game too. „I don't much like studying,“ Fili admits quietly. He fears he will also lose Balin, but he simply smiles and pats him on the head.  
„You don't like it, and yet every day you do it, because you know it is right. It is a sacrifice, Fili, and true Kings must be able to sacrifice for their people.“  
Fili smiles back. 

 

When they're older, he joins his brother and Dwalin out on the battleground. Fili likes fighting as much as the next dwarf, but when he sees Kili with his bow, his fingertips bloody and chafed in the evenings, he knows he lacks the passion for fighting. It is why he has not chosen on a weapon yet, and trains with each of them. Dwalin grunts when their blunted swords clash, but as always the lesson ends with Fili in the mud and the older dwarf towering over him. Kili never ends up in the mud; he becomes a berserk during training, and Fili likes watching him, because even a renowned warrior like Dwalin is hard-pressed to defend himself. After every one of their matches, Dwalin pats Kili on the head.  
He never pats Fili on the head, but that is alright, he tells himself. He has not gained much love from either his mother or his uncle; surely he cannot expect his distant relative to love him when not even those two dwarves prefer him. 

„My brother, Fili,“ says Balin to him in the night, „is a simple dwarf. He likes brawling, likes to see blood, likes to drink and eat and laugh. I love him none the less for it, but he does not aspire to achieve anything. The only thing he can respect is battle prowess. Other abilities are hidden to his eyes.“  
Fili has come to Balin's chambers less often as he has grown up, but still he visits him often enough. They have been talking about the politics King Nain I, and Fili has maintained his position that he was an unfit ruler, for his hot-headedness had cost his life and his people's home. Balin thinks differently, Fili knows; Balin thinks that it was his duty, trying to avenge his father's death. „Well, but he is right: what is a future king without battle prowess?“  
Balin chuckles. „Fili, Fili. It is true that strength is important, but strength does not need to manifest itself in a bloodied sword. You are of Durin's line, and you have more strength than you are aware of. You have the strength of a King. You will never relent. Your brother is strong like a fire, devouring a forest, but you are strong like stone, and tell me, do we live in a fire, or do we live in the stone?“  
„Stone,“ Fili replies.  
He smiles. 

 

Fili never grows aware of the fact that with Balin, he has _won_. He never grows aware for one single reason: it does not matter who loves him best and who doesn't. 

They all love Kili best. But as he has grown, as he has matured; as they have both matured, he finds it does not matter, and they can keep preferring Kili all they want.

Because Kili's first word is not 'Mama', it's 'Fili'.  
Kili clings to him, Kili asks him to sing him lullabies and tell him stories when he can't sleep. Kili braids his hair in a way his mother never has. Kili comes to him the way Fili has come to his mother.  
Kili tells him how amazing he is, to sit quietly and study, and is impressed by his progress; Kili tells him that he will be the best king ever. Much better than uncle Thorin, even.  
Kili looks for comfort by his side after brawling with their uncle. When Kili is asked who he most admires on the battlefield, who he most likes to spar with, he always says Fili's name. 

They all love Kili best, Fili knows.  
But Kili loves _him_ best, so it does not matter, not at all.


	9. wrong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't mind me. I just love incest taboo angst. I could write about this all day.  
> //  
> Prompt: So there's a toooon of fics where Fili/Kili is generally accepted or tolerated by the general population - and that's great! But how about something a little angstier?
> 
> Incest (and homosexuality, if you like) is one of the greatest taboos in Dwarf culture. Like, it's not even joked about, it's that bad. Fili and Kili do their best to hide their relationship, but eventually they are found out, and everything goes to hell.
> 
> Thorin is furious and heartbroken - I mean, they're basically his kids, he loves(loved?) them, and now it's his job to deal out some terrible punishment. Beard/hair-cutting? Branding? Flogging? Exile? Death? Is Fili treated with a bit more kindness by virtue of being Thorin's heir? I don't know, whatever you like, anon! But it's all very sad and horrible.
> 
> Anyway, in the end they escape/are freed(by Bilbo?)/are exiled together and must find somewhere to recover from this horrible experience, and make a new life for themselves.
> 
>  
> 
> Link: http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/3393.html?thread=5640001#t5640001

They learn with five other dwarves. Despite being the heirs to Durin's line, they are living in exile, and so the royal family does not have the luxury they'd once allowed themselves, and Fili and Kili do not learn with a private tutor, but with the wise old dwarf who teaches all the younglings in Ered Luin. They're sitting with four lads and one girl dwarf, who has not yet grown a beard despite being forty years old already. She's a late bloomer, says one of their mates who's clearly planning on courting her, which Fili finds pretty disgusting – she's a _girl_ , who would _ever_ want to court girls?! 

He likes the other dwarves, but most often the schooling is interrupted by pranks his brother and he play on the others, or on the dwarf who teaches them. This day, though, there are no pranks to be played, and Kili sits relatively quietly by his side, almost not fidgeting at all. 

„Master Fadin,“ asks the dwarfling who wants to court the maiden dwarf, and his voice is more timid than it usually is, „today, could we, uhm, could we... could we learn about... about...“ He glances at her before finishing his sentence. „... about love?“ 

Fadin sighs, and rubs his nose. Fili rolls his eyes. There's far more interesting things to learn about! Just yesterday – well – the day before yesterday – no – last week, class had been interesting, or no, that had been his brother who'd told him a good joke... either way, courting and love are silly, he thinks. He will spend his life with his brother, and the idea of either of them loving anyone else so much they want to found a whole new family is ridiculous, really. 

Fadin talks of love and finding your One, and he explains how young dwarves are made.  
„Fadin,“ asks Kili suddenly, and Fili grins at him omitting the honorific title, „You're only talking about males and females, what if I want to court another boy?“ 

At that, Fadin grows paler than he already is. The other dwarflings are mostly unfazed, although one of the lads snickers with contempt. He does not speak up, though; even though they are exiled, it would be a sign of ill manners to openly make fun of one of Durin's line. 

Instead, their teacher speaks again. „My dear Kili, the world is made of opposites. Darkness and light, night and day, earth and air, female and male. Like an endless night, the union of two males would go against... against every law of nature.“ 

Fili inclines his head. That _does_ make sense, and the other pupils nod eagerly, but something is off about those words. „And what, what if I were to court my sister, if I had one? How is that?“  
The teacher grows paler still, and looks quite dead at those words. Kili grabs hold of Fili's hand. „Yeah!“ he agrees with his brother, although all the other dwarves have gone completely silent. „Does that go against those laws of nature as well?“

Fadin waits for a few moments. „Are you still alive?“ Fili asks, slightly worried. The old dwarf seems to have stopped breathing.

„Do _never_ speak such words again.“ he finally squeezes out of his mouth. Fili is relieved, and Kili raises one eyebrow, but both keep quiet. „If a male lies with another male, that is considered impure and forbidden, but it is not unheard of. Those who offend their nature so are punished by the King, but forgiven if they repent. But to lie with one's parent, or with one's sibling...“ He closes his eyes in exasperation.  
„That would be like... how did you think of that? No healthy dwarf would ever even think of such, such heresy.“ 

Kili shrugs.  
„It is... abominable... foul... like... as if you were to meet Aulë, and draw your axe, and try to chop off his arms.“  
„Pretty stupid, then?“ says Fili, but the hair on the back of his neck has risen, he notices distantly.  
„That too,“ replies their teacher, „but more... it is a serious offense. To lie with your kin takes their honour, and thus it is just this close to kinslaying.“ Everyone, including Fili and Kili, gasps. Kinslaying is the worst crime they can imagine, and everyone, be they beggar or king, who murders one of their kin is sentenced to immediate, painful death. To compare _anything_ to kinslaying... 

Fili looks at his brother from the corners of his eyes.

Very suddenly, he is afraid. 

\- 

It has been years since they have last been taught alongside other dwarves. They have grown quite considerably, and even though their beards are still coming along rather slowly, their bodies and minds are those of young adult dwarves. 

Never again have they spoken to anybody about that one lesson all those years ago. Then again, that's not quite right; they have spoken to each other about it, and each time they talk, it grows more frustrated, them repeating the words old Fadin has spoken to them, believing in them less and less each and every day. 

One evening, Fili thinks he can't bear it anymore. There can be no doubt anymore. He loves Kili not in a brotherly way. The thought is almost too much to take, and surprisingly, he continues bearing it; continues shoving the burning longing to the back of his mind.  
„Fili,“ he hears his brother's voice in the darkness, in the bed next to his.  
Fili doesn't answer.  
„Are you sick?“ 

He knows where Kili tries to go with this, and stays completely quiet and rigid. 

„I am,“ and his brother's voice is too small. Fili can hear his breathing, and it's louder than that voice he loves so.  
„And impure. Are you impure?“ 

Fadin's words are etched into both of their minds. 

„Forbidden,“ he finally answers, stating the simple truth. „Sick, impure, forbidden, ...“  
„Abominable, _foul_.“ Kili ends the litany for him.

They are quiet again for a long time, but Fili knows his brother has not fallen asleep. His breathing is too irregular, and too loud. 

He pretends he doesn't notice his brother moving, moving over to his bed, and ever the impulsive one, Kili climbs onto his bed, and Fili finds himself pressed to the thin mattress. Sloppy, inexperienced lips trailing along his jawline before either of them can voice concerns or protests. 

He wraps his arms around his brother and presses him closer still, their clothed bodies flush in the darkness. „You must go away,“ he whispers as hunger boils his blood. „You know the laws of our people.“  
Kili grunts and his mouth is full on Fili's throat, slick with saliva, teeth scraping against his skin. Fili moans quietly.  
„Abominable,“ he murmurs, a tightness in his stomach he hasn't even noticed uncoiling. „Foul. Sick.“ Kili ceases his desperate lapping at Fili's neck. He cannot see a thing, but Fili knows that his brother's eyes must be blown, pupils huge and dark.  
„Yes,“ he growls. „Then let us be just that. Let us be depraved, let us break every single law in dwarven history.“ His fingers trail along Fili's cheeks, and he's trembling. Kili might talk big, but he's just as scared of this – their – this – this unspeakable thing between them as Fili is, he realises. 

„You are wrong,“ he replies, and Kili yelps in frustration; before his brother can get a word in, though, Fili continues hurriedly. „You are wrong, we can't be that, but we can, we must... it cannot... we...“ And his hand presses Kili down until their chins meet violently, until his bones ring with aching need, until he can feel those lips on his again. 

\- 

They may be wrong, they may not be that, but all of that does not matter one bit, because they _are_ ; they are what they are not allowed to be, and Fili fears it will rip him apart. Every time he looks into his uncle's eyes, something inside of him screams at him to come clear with him, to confess his sins, to plead for forgiveness, for death, beg to be taken from his brother's vicinity so that Kili may live a healthy life. He never does, though, and in the nights, when his brother joins him in his bed, he doesn't even remember what they're doing is wrong.

The darkness swallows his guilt whole, but when a new dawn comes, when dull grey light fills the world, it comes down on him, heavy on his heart. They never truly sleep with each other; oh, they lie with each other, their bodies join and their hearts cry in ecstasy, but after the deed is done and they are both breathing with difficulties, Fili places his lips on Kili's knuckles, and Kili slips away from him like a ghost, back into his own bed.  
So dawn does not only bring cursed awakening, but also cold where a warm body should lie; emptiness where Fili wants his brother's whole being. He has begun to fear every new morning, and crave each dark night. 

The continue their game – it is not a game, of course, it is so much more, it is all-encompassing, it is devouring and beautiful and twisted, it is not love and yet it is – for an eternity and yet it feels like no time has passed at all since that first time their lips met every time they lie together, so desperate and clumsy are their touches, so frantic their breathing, so black the bruises they carry afterwards. 

His brother loves him so much it hurts Fili's heart to look at him out in the open, where he knows they could never touch one another. He sees Kili's expression, and every day swears he will go to Thorin, and yet every day ends with his brother in his arms. They must be cursed, Fili thinks one night, cursed for they cannot keep away from each other, don't _want_ to keep away from each other, and he fears that they will bring the curse further upon the Line of Durin. 

„Kili, Kili,“ he groans as his brother tugs at the fabric of his nightshirt. „What,“ Kili replies. He is already out of breath, and where his fingertips brush over Fili's skin, he can feel stars dancing on his body.  
„Let me see you,“ he whispers, his voice hoarse. The darkness is everywhere, and he longs to look into Kili's eyes for once, he longs to watch him as he comes. A stillness comes over Kili then, and they remain unmoving for a long while.  
„I want to see you as well,“ his brother's voice goes straight into his mind. „And I want everyone else to see _us_.“  
This time, Fili does not even try to nod. This is preposterous. Kili can not be serious.  
„No,“ he replies, and his voice is as cold as he feels in this moment. „No. Never.“ 

Kili's nails dig deeply into his skin until blood mingles with the fair hair covering his skin.  
„Never,“ he says, and leans down to kiss Fili once again, rough and violent, demanding and desperate.

\- 

_Never_ is a big word, and, as it turns out, far too big for them. It does not happen intentionally, and yet it happens. There is a fire burning out of control not far from their chambers, and their uncle runs to find them; and for the first time in his life, Fili can read the expression on his brother's face as he finds bliss. For a short, sweet moment, he is even thankful for Thorin opening the door unannounced, and for the fire lighting up his beautiful, beautiful brother's face. One single sweet moment, he sees and knows nothing but _Kili_ , but the moment is _too_ sweet to last, and he knows that nothing will be as it was before. 

Their uncle seems to forget the fire, seems to forget the threat, and Fili pushes his brother. Kili has not yet seen Thorin, he is very aware of that; his brother has been lost within him, within himself, and nothing could have stolen his attention. 

„Uncle, this is-“ Fili begins, his voice weak and half-dead. Thorin stares, says nothing.  
„Uncle!!“ yells Kili. Still Thorin says nothing.  
„Uncle, please, we did not mean any harm, we just...“ Fili is pleading by now. The fire's warmth spreads into their room. Thorin says nothing.  
„Uncle, we know it's wrong...“ Kili sounds tired and terrified. Thorin says nothing. 

They all stare at each other for a few horrible seconds.

„Fire,“ Thorin finally speaks. He sounds oddly defeated, Fili thinks, and struggling to keep himself on his feet. „There is fire. In the hall. You need to. Need to. Get up. Away. Safety. Yes.“  
Their uncle's usually so stoic, strong voice trembles. Fili feels like breaking apart, and so he clutches Kili as tightly as is possible.  
Then, they do get up, they do get away, they help extinguishing the fire. All the while, their uncle stays silent, and so do they. After the threat has been banned, and the offending dwarf has hung his head in shame, they try to quietly sneak away to their room. 

They do not succeed. Dwalin, fierce, fearsome warrior, grabs Kili's arm right in the middle of the corridor. „You follow me,“ he tells them both, and they exchange one single look. It would be of no use to struggle, of course; they are barely clothed, exhausted and scared, so they follow Dwalin who keeps his head up.  
After a long while – and Fili refrains from taking Kili's hand, of course, that would be most improper, even though his brother is visibly shaking and he just wants to _help_ him, but knows that the only way he could've helped him would be to have shoved him away before they had grown addicted to each other – the three of them arrive in front of Thorin Oakenshield's official council room. It is a large room, one of the largest in Ered Luin, and Fili and Kili have often joined their uncle in his meetings there, planning, talking, and judging. Now, it is them who will be judged. 

They enter with quite the different attitude. Fili keeps his head held high; he is still the heir, and he will not apologise for loving his brother. He might apologise for corrupting him, but there is nothing evil about what they do – or so he tries to convince himself. Kili, however, ever the younger sibling ( _his_ sibling, Fili thinks, and for a moment wants to throw himself down on his knees and cry at his uncle's feet) has his head lowered, expecting a blow to afterwards carry on what he'd been doing. This, they both know, will not happen tonight. 

Their crime is much different from Kili playfully shoving another dwarf down a slope, or something similar. They have broken the moral codex, and the love in Thorin's heart for his nephews will not save them this time – it might be the thing that condemns them, even. 

The King in Exile sits the long, round table like a King in his Kingdom. By his side are Balin and Óin, distant relatives of them all. Their mother, Fili notices, is not there. He is relieved. 

„Sit,“ says Balin; his usually so gentle voice is not even remotely kind in these moments, although there is a hint of pity there. They sit, opposite of their uncle, Balin, and Dwalin who joins Thorin's other side. 

They are quiet for a long while. Kili grabs Fili's hand underneath the table, and Fili wants to shake him off, to forcefully extract his hand from Kili's hard grip. He does neither. 

„Fili, Kili.“ It is not Thorin who speaks; it is Balin instead, who has just procured a long document. „We shall try to keep this impersonal. It is not well that it must be us to judge you, but you are both Thorin's subjects, and so it must be his council.“ Fili nods. Kili grips his hand tighter. „Very well, then. You are charged with committing two crimes at once. The first of them: You had intercourse between two males. The witness is King Thorin I Oakenshield. Do you deny this allegation?“  
Fili exchanges a quick glance with his uncle, whose mouth is set in a thin line. He shakes his head, but it is Kili who speak, stronger than Fili thought he'd sound. „We do not.“  
Balin nods. „The second charge is as follows. You are accused of having had intercourse with one another, making this a severe case of lying with one's kin. The witness, as before, is King Thorin I Oakenshield. Do you deny this allegation?“  
„No.“ This time, it is Fili who speaks. „It is as he says.“ 

Balin nods yet again. He silently reads the document.  
„The penalty...“ And here, his voice falters. He clears his throat. His hand is numb by now, Kili holds on to him much too tightly. Fili could not care less. „The penalty for a male dwarf to lie with another male dwarf is to have their beard shorn and to receive ten whiplashes. If he asks for a pardon, the case shall be closed. The penalty to use one of your kin as you would use your wife is worse, though. Who of you was it that...“ His voice breaks. 

It is Thorin who answers the unspoken question. „It was Kili, I think.“ His voice sounds as numb as Fili's hand feels. For a moment, he wonders which numbness is worse; his uncle, so obviously heartbroken, or the one provoked by his brother's fear. Only for a moment. It is his brother's fear, of course, which is worse, but only marginally so.  
„Yes,“ Fili agrees, his throat dry. 

„... alright,“ Balin seems to have refound his voice. „Let us... let us...“ He shuffles through the papers, quite obviously distraught. Fili cannot blame him one bit. „The penalty for that is... is death. The... the one receiving shall be... shall be whipped fifty times, shorn, and exiled...“  
„We already are exiled,“ Kili throws in, but _death_ has suffocated every thought in Fili's mind. It is him who grips his brother's hand now.  
„You can't kill him, it's, I lied, it was me who...“  
„Will you be quiet!“ hisses Kili.  
„No, I am serious, it-“  
„It was Kili.“ says Thorin. 

They are all silent again. 

„I promise you a swift, clean death.“ It is Dwalin who growls these words. He does not look at them. Fili is swaying between killing them all, every single one of them, and breaking out in tears. Thankfully, neither of the options happens, because Kili lets go of his hand. He bows down to place a soft kiss on his brother's brow, but does not say a thing; only when he faces the three older dwarves does he speak again. 

„You cannot mean to do this, uncle,“ he says, and Thorin looks away; Fili realises he _must_. It is a King's duty to do what needs to be done, a duty he could not leave to anyone else. It would break their uncle, he knows it, in some distant corner of his mind he knows this; and yet he feels no pity for him, cannot feel any pity when he is forced to imagine a life without Kili waiting for him in just a few hours' time.  
„Lad...“ Balin's voice sounds defeated. „As your King, he must.“ 

Kili looks like he wants to object – oh, Fili knows _this_ face all too well, and love threatens to suffocate him – but when he speaks again, it is not an objection at all. „A King without heirs. Fine, then, I ask only for a death that will cleanse my soul.“ Fili swallows, and stands as well.  
„Will you do me the honour of allowing me to join my brother on this last journey?“ 

Their uncle's hair and beard make a stark contrast to his paling skin.  
„No,“ he breathes out through gritted teeth. „I will not put both of my nephews to death. Do not be foolish.“ He doesn't say his name, Fili notices. Doesn't call either of them by their names.  
„Yes, Fili, do not be ridiculous,“ says Balin. „Your exile will last but for twenty years, after which you may return and become Thorin's heir once again. All will be well then, after you have atoned.“ 

Fili blinks. How could all be well should his brother miss from his life? „All will be well? Do you not have a brother yourself, a brother whom you love? Would all be _well_ if Dwalin were to be murdered?“  
„Be quiet,“ Dwalin growls. Never has Fili been afraid of him, and now is not a good time to start doing so; yet he feels fear crawl along his spine. „Do not compare your abominable deeds with true brothers' love.“  
Fili pales. Of course they wouldn't understand. He cannot expect anyone to understand. „You don't understand,“ says Kili quietly. He cannot expect anyone to understand but his own brother, of course. Fili almost, almost smiles. 

„That is all, then,“ says Thorin, his tone rigid and so cold Fili thinks he's silently passed away and this is his corpse speaking. „The public penance will take place by midday tomorrow. You two will spend the rest of the night in separate chambers. Kili, you may request one last meal.“ 

„Well, then, I would very much like to eat out Fili,“ Kili spits, and Thorin's face grows flushed while Fili pales.  
„Uncle...“ he whispers, and Balin as well as Dwalin stand. The older of the two puts a hand on Kili's shoulder.  
„Please follow me, boy,“ he says, and this time, the pity can be distinguished quite clearly.  
Kili does not move.  
„Uncle, _please_ ,“ Fili begs. Thorin does not look at him, only at the table in front of him.  
„Leave.“  
 _Look at him_ , Fili thinks. _Look at your nephew. Look him in the eyes._ But Thorin does not, and then Fili feels Dwalin's rough hand around his upper arm.  
„Don't struggle,“ he murmurs, and Fili does not plan to struggle. 

They are led down the corridor in silence. This time, Fili wants to grab hold of Kili's hand, wants to break out into a sprint, wants to fight his way out of this place; he might have tried so, and lost his life in the process, too, if Kili had not begun to talk to him in a hushed voice.  
„I need you,“ he begins, and Fili wants to wrap him into his arms; because beneath that fierce young warrior, now more than ever he can hear the scared little dwarfling he used to comfort after every nightmare, „to not lose your head. Keep your calm. Don't try something rash.“  
„You are the rash one,“ Fili argues. He tries to ignore the knowledge that those will be some of the last words he will exchange with his brother in his whole life.  
„Well, just now you seemed ready to die with me, which is just stupid. Live. Live out there. Return after your exile has ended. Become the King. _Change_ things. Live.“  
Fili snorts. He can't answer, though. His throat is too constricted, his heart too crumpled.  
„Promise me? Promise?“  
And as Fili looks into his brother's eyes, he silently shakes his head, and that is when he finds disappointment growing deeper than any dwarf-made shaft directed at him. He can't bear to look Kili in the eyes, and turns his head. 

„Fill,“ says Kili as Balin stops and Dwalin, with his hand still around Fili's arm, marches on. Balin opens a door. Fili looks at his brother, long and hard, and– „Fili.“ Kili's voice breaks. 

That is when Fili realises he is dead, only his body has not understood that yet. 

\- 

It is the largest hall in Ered Luin. Fili has not slept, and doubts his brother has. As they are brought up to the end of the hall, he can see most every dwarf has found it a good idea to join this public... _penance_ , as his uncle has called it. They are densely packed, and the loud roaring voices fall silent as Fili is led along the way by Dwalin, who has guarded his room through the night. 

In the center of the hall, there is a circle, and the dwarves do not step over the invisible boundaries around that circle. There is noone in there but Thorin himself, Balin, and Kili. 

Fili closes his eyes. He will not let them see his tears, will not let them see the emptiness deep down inside of him.  
They step into the circle. The other dwarves' voice are buzzing around him, but Fili cannot make out any words. Does not want to make out any specific words. His gaze is locked on his brother, who, in turn, stares at him like a drowning dwarf might stare at an island too far away. They do not speak, but then again, they do not need to; their eyes say it all. 

Without listening, Fili _knows_ what they are saying. It is what he would say, if he didn't understand. _How could they, do they not feel any shame, it is the punishment for the sins of Thorin and his ancestors, watch closely children, what foul creatures, they are more orc than dwarf, unthinkable, repulsive, they deserve this._ It does not matter to him what they say, what they think. 

He wishes that Kili could see their mother's sweet face just once before he has to die, and he wishes he was not there to watch. 

They are shorn of their beards as the folk whispers, murmurs, talks, gossips, yells, screeches, screams. In different circumstances, Fili would have cringed from this humiliation. Now, he does not care anymore. All he can see is his brother's face, his features so young and soft, and almost cries as the fear shines brightly in Kili's eyes.  
„Do not be afraid,“ he whispers quietly after they have both been relieved of their hair. Without it, Kili almost looks like a newborn babe, only so much older, and so much more hurt. Next to follow is the whipping, Fili knows; Kili ten times, him sixty times, the price to pay for a life he does not want to keep. 

They are stripped of their shirts. Still they look at one another.  
„Kili, Kili, brother, do you remember the day we went to the market of the humans?“  
Kili tries to smile. At least, the corners of his mouth twitch.  
„It was a grand sight to behold, was it not? We-“ And the whip comes down on his back, and Fili's words stay in his throat for a moment as pain burns through him.  
„We stole a...“ He watches Kili's eyes widen, and the need to hold him, to stroke him gently grows so strong he does not know how he bears not to.  
„We stole a coat, and hid it in...“ 

Afterwards, Fili does not remember if he has finished the story. He faints, and awakes to feel blood drying on his back, and to see his brother struggling against another dwarf who keeps him in place, screaming words he cannot quite grasp.  
It is his name Kili screams, he realises belatedly, and reaches out for him. The simple motion sets his body aflame in a way even Kili's fingertips have never been able to. He groans, pain clouding his mind so intensely he can barely _see_ his brother in front of him. 

„Fili,“ says a low voice. It is his uncle's, Fili thinks, his mind dizzy, but the voice trembles, and Thorin's voice never trembles.  
„Look away.“  
There is an axe above Kili's head. Fili cries out, screams his brother's name, and somehow knows that silent tears are crawling over Thorin's cheeks. 

 

„Stop!!“ Fili cannot think straight, but he would recognise his mother's voice _anywhere_. He has not torn his gaze off his brother, whose head is still miraculously on his shoulders. He is not sure where Dis' voice is coming from; but it is so loud all the other dwarves fall silent.  
„Sister,“ yells Thorin. „Flee this scene, I beg you!“  
„Thorin,“ his mother's voice is more angry than anything else, and Fili is confused. He still watches his brother, who, in turn, only looks at him. „I will not allow you to put my son to death for a crime _you_ have committed often enough!“  
„What?“ answers Thorin. If Fili were fully _there_ , he would wonder about her words as well.  
„You know what I speak of, my King, my brother!“ She appears behind Kili. The crowd is still completely silent. „I cannot count the times you and I have shared one bed!!“  
Thorin trembles, and Fili tries to get back upon his feet as noise drowns out anything his uncle might've answered to that. He does not care if it is true what Dis has just accused Thorin of; he does not care as he grabs hold of Kili. 

This is the only chance they have, he realises quickly although the pain makes every motion unbearable. A king who has broken the sacred law of their people – it is so much more _interesting_ than the execution of a princeling. Kili's fingers almost claw at him, and in the chaos, he drags Fili with him into the mass of dwarves. They scream things Fili still doesn't understand, but then, somehow, they end up outside; the sun is at the zenith, bright and hostile, and he feels like fainting again, but somehow, his brother is still _alive_ , and they breathe fresh air, and his uncle, and his mother, and– 

„Fili,“ says Kili as they stand there, the whole world at their feet. „Can you walk on your own?“  
They are still stripped down to their waist.  
Fili would much rather sleep and cry and sleep.  
„Can you?“ he replies, his voice wheezing.

„Yes,“ says Kili, and so they begin the descent, and leave everything behind. 

-

It is forty years before anyone finds them, and it is their mother who does. Their hair has grown back a long time ago.  
She enters the smithy they own far in the South one day, and looks as if she has aged a millennium. Kili embraces her, and they sit beneath the hearth.  
„Your uncle was killed trying to reclaim Erebor,“ she says. „So did everyone who accompanied him.“

Fili mourns, mourns because he remembers the tears on Thorin's face.  
Kili is curled closely around his brother. 

Their mother says nothing. She only smiles.


	10. mirror move

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shameless porn excuse me.  
> //   
> Prompt: Kili finds out that Fili has had a sexual experience. Kili wants to know EVERYTHING. Because that's what brothers do, right? They tell each other everything.  
> Fili finally agrees to tell, but....it gets rather out of hand.  
> BONUSES:  
> \- Give me all the possessiveness/curiosity/jealousy mixed with arousal, please!  
> \- Them getting excruciatingly turned on talking about sex, knowing they're pushing a boundary, but not calling it off  
> Optional bonus (since not everyone likes writing it):  
> \- Incest is taboo among Dwarves, as among all of the free peoples. (I like a little forbidden angst in my Durincest sometimes, you feel me??)
> 
>  
> 
> Link: http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/3393.html?thread=5488193#t5488193

„He's not _that_ bad, you know,“ says Fili and Kili raises one eyebrow. Of course he is; he might be a dwarf their age, but has always been taller, and Kili clearly remembers him tugging on his hair until he would cry when he'd been younger. Talun, as they all have, has matured, and the hair-tugging is a thing of the past, but the other dwarf has also taken on archery, and more than once has bested Kili. He will never shake off the old grudge.

„Oh, and why's that, dear brother? You're suddenly best friends with Talun the Tormentor?“ That was, naturally, a nickname not quite fitting, since Talun could not truly be called 'tormentor' in all seriousness anymore.   
Fili snorts and ruffles through his hair. Kili, however, leans away from the touch; he is quite cross with his brother defending his arch-enemy. Fili grows a bit more serious at that.   
„I'm nobody's _best friend_ , as you very well know,“ he answers, and Kili feels a pang of guilt that vanishes within a second. He feels it, though, and that's what matters, right?  
„Then why do you defend him so? You know very well how little I can stand him!“ 

Fili looks away. Kili doesn't like it when he looks away, and so grabs his head with one hand, and forces him to look at him. Fili sighs. „If you must know, beloved brother, we have lain with one another.“  
Abruptly Kili lets go of him, and leans back where he sits on the ground, or more specifically, on the blanket covering the stone ground. He looks up at Fili sitting on his low chair, and unbidden imagery floats through his mind. There is stupid Talun, his features somehow dizzy, not quite clear, and his hands are all over Fili, and he grabs at him, he leaves bruises, and Kili licks his lips. 

„Is that so,“ he replies quietly. Fili looks at him with an expression a mixture of amusement and something Kili can't quite pinpoint.   
They're quiet for a few seconds, during which Kili tries to ban the images from his mind. He fails to do so, and is forced to continue talking. „And what did you... how did you... I mean?“

„No need to blush like a maiden,“ jokes Fili with a huge grin on his face. „I don't think you want to know, though.“  
„I do!“ objects Kili immediately. „I must learn about this, too! What better way to learn than from a second-hand experience?“   
Fili rolls his eyes. „S'pose you're right.“ Kili licks his lips once again and slightly leans forward, just as Fili leans backwards in his seat. He can see them all too clearly, his brother's golden skin and Talun's completely unworthy hands roaming over it, can see their lips joining, and it disgusts him quite, but there is something else too, something he is afraid to name. 

„Alright, I must start with... this, I don't love him, you know, but he's handsome, you must admit it.“ Kili growls. The bastard is far from handsome. He's got pathetically unkempt black hair, barely even a beard, and lips too full to be considered attractive at all. „You've gone blind, brother?“ he teases.   
„You won't admit it, fine, stay childish.“ Fili leans forward again, and Kili's hands fist in the blanket. „We both had drunk quite a lot of ale, and found a nice, secluded spot. I cannot remember how we got out our clothes, but we were naked then. I can't quite remember where we were, either... I think somewhere at his.“  
Kili nods, but says nothing.  
„Then... he's not a good kisser, but good enough. I liked that he _bit_ me.“   
Kili scowls. He cranes his head and looks at Fili's lips, scrutinisingly.   
His brother laughs.  
„No, you won't see the marks, it's been days! But he did bite me.“   
„How did that feel? Why, doesn't it hurt?“   
„It did, but it was more like... it was a pleasant pain, sharpening your senses, awakening you to the situation. And Kili, I was _very_ awake then. He'd draped his body over mine, you know he's a bit taller than I am...“   
„But of a height with me!“ Kili interjects.   
„... maybe. That, I never paid much attention to.“  
„Of course not.“ 

„Anyway. We started... rubbing against each other.“ Kili finds that his hand has found his thigh, and he squeezes the flesh underneath his clothes.   
„Oh?“ His voice suddenly sounds very small.   
„He was very slick. With sweat. And he smelled... he smelled... I cannot describe it.“   
„You do not need to,“ Kili answers. He doesn't care much for descriptions of Talun, but more for what his brother has _felt_. „Tell me instead, did you feel good?“   
„Yes,“ replies Fili, his voice one pitch higher than it has been before. „Very good. We were both hard, and I felt like I needed to come right there and then.“   
„What happened then?“   
This time, it is Fili who licks his lips. „He placed his calves around me, one on each side of my thighs. I could feel his warmth pressed to my bare skin.“   
Kili's hand has somehow – and he doesn't quite understand how – found a way to his own groin. He presses down, hoping he will not grow, but in a distant corner of his mind does he recognise _desire_. 

„And then?“ 

Fili stays quiet for a while. He stares at Kili, but Kili doesn't mind much.

„And then... then he took me into his mouth. That was... I cannot describe it to you. It was tight and hot and wet, and it was so, so much better than my hand.“ He pauses. „Do you... have you pleasured yourself...“   
Kili groans. „Of course, brother, don't be dense. More often than I can count.“ And his treacherous mind whispers that it is not proper to tell his brother such things. His will, though, cannot be disturbed by his mind.   
„Ah. Yes. I should have known,“ and Fili's voice is slightly breathless, which is a ridiculous thought. Kili edges just this bit closer, until he can almost feel the warmth emanating from his brother's legs.   
„Continue,“ he prompts, and Fili does. 

„I came in his mouth. He did not swallow, though, and so it spilled all over my skin.“  
„How did you taste?“ Kili asks.   
Fili pauses. „I...“ he speaks slowly, carefully. „I do not know. You might have to ask Talun.“   
„Ah, come on, just continue!“ Kili feels himself flushing. He wants to turn away, and yet cannot; he can still see them so clearly, writhing, moaning... but in his mind, it is not Talun's name his brother moans.   
„Alright. Afterwards, it was... he... we... Wait.“   
Fili stands up, and immediately sits down again, in front of Kili. He grabs his hand, tears it away from his groin, and looks at it closely.   
Kili holds his breath while Fili turns his fingers around in his hands. 

„His fingers were like yours,“ Fili whispers. Kili has to strain to understand his words. „When they entered me, I thought I might burst... one finger at first...“ His thumb strokes over Kili's index finger. „A second...“ His middle finger. Kili's skin tingles. „And a third...“ The ring finger, and Fili has enclosed his hand around all three of them. It's warm, far too warm. Kili still doesn't breathe, and Fili closes his eyes.  
„'You're so tight', he said. 'Fuck, so tight, never been used before, I bet, sweet little asshole', yes, that's what he said...“ 

It is not only arousal that has Kili's whole body flushing, but also anger. He lunges forward, and his free hand grabs the back of Fili's head. „He mustn't talk to you like that! It's, it's... he _mustn't_ , nobody is allowed to speak so to you...“   
Fili looks a bit surprised as he opens his eyes again.   
„I liked it,“ he murmurs, and his voice is barely more than a hoarse breath. 

Kili's dick is hard by now, pulsing with an aching need. He does not dare to touch himself, though. 

„I liked him inside me, I liked his filthy words, I liked being treated like a whore...“ 

And that is enough for Kili, more than enough, he can't take this any longer, and he yanks Fili forward, and his lips crash against those of his brother, hot and hungry and needy, and he almost regrets what he's just done, what he's just destroyed, but _fuck_ does his brother's mouth feel perfect. 

„Shut up,“ he growls into that perfect mouth as soon as the desperation does not pain his bones so much anymore; and his voice is more of a plea than an order, „shut up, shut up, don't talk about him like this, don't say you liked it, you mustn't...“ And his voice trails off, and somehow Fili's hand ends up in his hair, too, and he kisses him back.

And Kili understands; he understands why Fili has chosen Talun, with his black hair, with his cheeky grin and his youthful mirth, and he feels sick down to his centre.   
They kiss for an eternity, and then Fili rips himself away from Kili; there is a small thread of saliva hanging between them, and Kili wants nothing but to grab Fili again, wants to suck him, wants to taste him, wants to fill him, wants, wants, wants his brother, and knows his brother wants him too, and he's so sick, they're both so sick, and– 

„I'm sorry,“ murmurs Fili. His hair is dishevelled, his lips swollen. „I shouldn't have told you of all this.“ He gets up again, his legs weak – Kili sees them trembling. He's too dazed to follow his brother's example. „That was very... that was improper.“ Fili isn't even looking at him. 

„I can do it all, too,“ and Kili doesn't realise he's sounding like a pouting child. „I can suck you off, I can call you dirty things, I can fuck you, believe me, let me prove it to you, you don't need to use a cheap copy, I–“

And Fili leaves, and Kili wishes he had never opened his mouth at all.


	11. pain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey. English. Still not my mother tongue, just wanted to let you know.   
> This prompt. I read it and thought. Well, did I think, this is right. up. my. alley. Exactly what I need to write.   
> //   
> Prompt: Kili wants Fili, he always has but can't bring himself to tell him or act on it. He can't take it anymore but will never dare to say anything afraid he would lose Fili and he would be disgusted by him.  
> But he is too desperate, being close all day is killing him, so he decides to act on it, but with Fili never finding out. So while fili is asleep, he nocks him out, blindfolds him and ties him up, and fucks him hard and brutally all the while Fili's crying and tries to get away. When he's finished, he leaves him there and comes back acting like the worried protective brother, unties Fili and conforts him taking him in his arms telling him he will protect him from any harm while Fili cries his heart out taking confort in his brother strong arms.  
> "You will never now" thinks Kili smiling darkly
> 
> Link: http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/3393.html?thread=6344513#t6344513
> 
> Also TW noncon if that wasn't made clear by the prompt.

It could not be called _painful_. Because pain, pain Kili could bear; that, he had proven over and over again, training with sharp weaponry, had proven through hail and snow and hunting accidents, had proven when he had grabbed burning coals and had not cried as his hands had been blistered for weeks afterwards.   
Pain was something Kili could bear. Pain was something he had inflicted on himself often enough, to forget that which he could _not_ bear. He had cut himself 'accidentally', and when his brother's caring hands had treated those wounds, he had felt a bit better. He had let his opponents tear his skin, he had bled to forget, he had tried to fill his mind with physical agony. For a while, he thought it had worked: but it had not, it had not worked at all. 

Instead, _it_ grew harder to bear every day, and he understood very well why it did. _It_ was his brother's smiles, his casual touches, the light that would brighten up his eyes whenever he would look at Kili. _It_ was hair shining like the most precious treasure, it was lips overripe to be kissed, it was lithe muscles moving with grace and determination. It was laughter ringing in his heart, it was whispered secrets in dark nights, it was hands and sweat and it was what could be and could yet never be. 

Pain Kili could bear. Longing for his brother he could not, although that felt eerily similar to the way his blood would come spurting out of his wounds when he got injured. He would watch, terrified, and it would hurt, but he could not tear his gaze away, could not even try to forget, because it was always _there_ in his mind. 

And Fili wasn't always with him: he was with him more often than always. To be with him, but unable to touch him, to claim him, even to kiss him was torture and bliss, and when he was not with him, Kili found himself unable to think of anything else but his brother. How often had he lain somewhere, alone, hidden even, his cock in his hand and his brother's name on his lips – it was uncountable, and every time the aching desire burned its way deeper into his bones, right down to his marrow, until he was sure he had burnt down to ashes. Yet he was aflame again the next time Fili's figure graced his sight, and burning the brighter for all the times he could not.

His brother, though, was completely oblivious to the maddening desire within Kili. Of course: how _could_ he even begin to grasp the extents of the insanity which grew inside of him? He loved him well, of that Kili was sure, but he was also sure that his brother was not desiring him as he did, and should he ever speak of it... the pain of being rejected by the one being his life revolved around was unimaginable, and Kili that this, he would not be able to bear for one single second. 

So he went on with his life, but with every small smile on his brother's lips, his self-restraint faded, and Kili feared the day it would vanish altogether – because destruction would come over him, or his brother, or both of them. It would be a dark day, he always imagined, and storms would plague the land, and evil would raise its ugly head, and all the foul creatures would rejoice as the sun would set forever. 

It turned out that the day Kili lost all control he had retained was to be a completely normal day. A night, rather. Far outside, animals were scurrying along, owls were hooting; inside the mountain, guards were patroling and busy dwarves were crafting. Kili had woken from a blissful dream, a dream of warmth and love, but his room was excruciatingly empty, and too cold, and his arms were trembling as he sat up. His brow was damp with sweat, his nightgown clinging to his skin, and the terrifying loneliness threatened to choke him.

There was one thing he needed to do, and his mind was sharp as he stood and grabbed a rope and a few scraps of cloth from his possessions. The way to Fili's chambers was not long, and he barely needed four minutes to arrive at his destination. There was doubt pertaining what he was planning to do in his mind, but the – the – the _love_ overrode it quickly, and he opened the door as silently as a burglar would.

He took a few moments to get used to the darkness, and then another few moments to take in the sight of his brother; helpless and innocent and _alive_ , he lay on his mattress, covered so that Kili could only see his face. He was lying on his back, eyes closed and breathing regular. Kili closed the distance between them and sat down at the edge of the bed, his hand slowly, slowly, slowly pulling back the cover until he could feel hot skin beneath his fingertips. He licked his lips, and continued to bare his brother to the air. It was warm enough in the room, and Kili liked this; liked touching his brother, liked to feel this skin he had dreamt of often enough, liked, loved it. And Fili did not wake, and Kili took his precious time, took all the time he wanted because he _could_. 

His skin was like satin and moss and stone, harsh and soft, and Kili could feel the beating heart beneath his ribcage if he pressed down just a bit. He had waited so long he had gone mad, and now he could wait a few moments longer, he thought. Fili was like a banquet, laid out just for him, to devour, to relish, to indulge in; and he would not waste one single second of all this. As soon as Fili was to wake, he would need to hurry, would not allow himself to adore this warm skin, so he had to love that stout, muscled body now. 

Kili mapped out his brother's body; his fingers trailed from his throat to his chest, pausing for a few endless moments over a small pink peak; and he enjoyed the shiver that went through Fili's body then, without waking him. His hand continued, cherished the fair hair on his belly, dipped into his navel, and remained idle just above the coarser, darker hair around his groin. 

Kili licked his lips, and then bowed down to gently lick along Fili's thigh. Still his brother would not wake. He tasted just as he had imagined him to taste, and yet so different: there was the musky flavour he'd expected, the smoke and the sun, something inviting and something so familiar it was suffocating his every thought. But there was also more to him, more than Kili could ever hope to taste, and he would have lost himself there, saliva drying on his brother's skin, had Fili not stirred. He mumbled something, and Kili was sitting upright within a split second, enthroned above his brother. Quickly he grabbed a scrap of cloth and wound it tightly around Fili's eyes, who woke from the motion, and began to struggle. His brother's voice cut through the silence Kili had enjoyed so far, and it obliterated all previous doubt he had. He did not really hear what Fili was yelling, but that voice, rich with passion and a gorgeous panic, push him over the edge. Kili did not want to hurt his brother, not truly; he wanted to love his brother well, yet his brother would never allow him to, and truly, was it _his_ fault if Fili would get hurt soon, or was it Fili's; Fili's for not noticing what Kili wanted, what Kili needed, what Kili needed to survive? 

His conscience died the moment Kili grabbed his brother's wrists, silently, and bound them together with chafing rope. He struggled, and kicked and lashed out at him, but Kili crawled back and bound Fili's ankles as well, tied them to the bedposts.  
„Who is this,“ cried his brother, and the fear in his voice was so sweet it made Kili tremble with anticipation, „I will hurt you, I will kill you, get away-“ And then he ceased to listen his words, for he had tied Fili's hands to the bed as well, and leaned back to admire his work. 

His brother was the most beautiful creature to grace Middle Earth; even now, struggling, panicked, sweat coating his sumptuous skin, he was perfect to Kili's eyes and ears, his fingers and his skin, or maybe he had grown a bit more beautiful, a bit more perfect just now, if that was possible even.   
Then, a word cut through, deep down into Kili's consciousness; „Kili! Kili!“ Fili cried, and he froze for a moment, but then he added - „Help! Help, Kili!“ - and Kili realised he had not recognised him, and never would. A strange calamity came over him, and he licked his lips slowly.

It was too bad he could not talk, or else all love his brother felt for him would surely be shattered. Kili yearned to speak, speak of his feelings, speak of the desire that had driven him to this point – not quite madness, but not quite healthy either – to speak of a love that surpassed all others; he yearned to listen to his brother accepting him, returning those wretched desires, yearned to hear him call his name not in hope for help but in lust, in hope to find relief.   
He could never utter a single syllable, whereas Fili was free to scream, to struggle, to writhe, and so he did all these things and more. But Kili's knots were as tight as was his heart, and the whole of Fili's battle was for naught. 

For a short moment, Kili was afraid. It had been easy to bend his brother's body to his will, far too easy to bind him and to overcome him, and what if another dwarf saw the perfection in Fili as well, what if another dwarf tried to claim him as Kili would now? Fili would not be able to struggle free then either, he was sure. 

The slick skin made him forget all of that. His shaft twitched and he grasped Fili's thighs. There would be no more kisses, no time for this, no time anymore. He had been patient for years, for far too long. He would not be patient now.   
If Fili wouldn't give to him what he needed, he would take it, and so he did. Kili almost moaned as he entered his brother – _tight, tight, like a dream, was this a dream, cannot be real_ – but only almost. Not a single sound left his lips. Fili, however, was all the louder for the lack of noise from his penetrator. He cried, uttered words without sense, trembled and shook violently. Kili felt bad then; his brother had not cried often, yet now he did, but the heat surrounding him more than made up for the guilt that lapped at his mind, and shoved it away yet again. 

Kili could not believe he had lived so far without this. Nothing could compare to this, to this... _completion_ he was experiencing. The world seemed to fall into place, as if something had been subtly shifted until now. It was bliss, pure, perfect bliss, yes, that was what his brother was, around him, and he filled his mind.  
 _Whole_ , he felt whole and good and, for the first time, knew he _belonged_. Fili was still crying, but it was a dull noise somewhere far away, and Kili did not care for it.   
He remained silent still as he found precious release within his brother, as his view exploded, no, as the world exploded, and yet he felt blessed. Thereafter, Kili felt like fainting, sheer intensity of his bodily reaction having him tumbling along the line of consciousness. But he could not faint, he needed to leave his brother's side, needed to, because destruction, destruction, destruction and hatred waited for him here, nothing more. 

Fili was sobbing quietly as he withdrew, and did not speak even as Kili left the room. 

He was in a daze as his feet brought him back into his own room, where he fell on top of his bed and stared at the ceiling. His body was trembling still, and he could not focus on anything. His thoughts came and went in waves, and every time they went, pleasure filled the void they left. It was not long until he longed for his brother's warmth again. The loneliness was back, scratching at his mind, and he knew he could not flee from it, could never flee from it. 

And so he stood again. His clothing was crumpled; he changed into something else. Outside, candles were still burning, and the sun had not yet come up as he walked through the quiet corridors. This time, he knocked on the door leading to Fili's room.

There was no answer, as expected. Still Kili frowned.   
„Fili?“ he called, and silence was around him. The walls in the mountain were thick, of course, but the door was made of wood, and it was not too difficult to yell loud enough to get be understood on the other side. „Fili!“ he said once again, and knew for sure he was being heard. Yet Fili did not reply.   
A good brother – one who did not desire, one who did not hurt, one who only loved but never took – would have entered the room then, for worrying about Fili's silence. Kili entered the room because he was excited to see how his brother had taken their union, was dying to lay his hands on that warm skin again. „Brother, are you awake?“ he asked, his voice carefully tuned to be oblivious, and allowed his eyes to get used to the dim light again. 

Fili was lying on the bed as he had left him. A shudder went through Kili, and his fingertips twitched – he felt a sudden aching need to reclaim this treasure, to bury himself within him again, to bite and kiss and – but he mustn't think of such things. Once. Once should have been enough to quench this hunger inside of him, wasn't that so?   
„Fili, what happened?!“ he exclaimed, the shock masking the excitement that dwelled in his voice as well. His brother raised his head, and Kili did not know if the painful sensation in his stomach was lust or guilt as he saw the tears on that loved face. Both, most probably.   
„Kili,“ he said, slowly. „Oh, Kili. Oh.“   
And that was all he could say before Kili had rushed to his side, deft hands already working on the tie that bound Fili's hands to the bed. As soon as he had succeeded, he could feel those hands around his neck, could feel a naked, ravaged body pressing close to his chest, and then he felt a warm wetness on his neck, and knew those were his brother's tears.   
He shivered as he wrapped his hands around his back. Fili was still tied by his feet, and thus their position was slightly uncomfortable, but neither cared about this. 

„Brother...“ Kili murmured quietly, one hand dragging lazy circles over the bare skin as it had not so long ago with much more ferocity. The skin was hot and red beneath his fingers. „It is quite alright now, none may hurt you now.“ 

Fili's breathing was steady and calm, and he could feel his heart beating, beating so close to his own he might burst. His head moved a little bit against Kili's neck, but Fili would not look at him. Kili sighed, then growled, and one hand moved further up to glide through his fair hair. His braids were half-undone.   
„Will you tell me what... who did... _this_?“   
Fili was only breathing, and Kili was content to hold him. So close they had not been for years, he thought.   
„I don't know who,“ came a small voice as reply. Kili had to bite back a groan. Never before had he heard his brother so very _hurt_ , so defeated. And to think he was the cause of it; to think he could make his big, strong, sturdy brother sound so utterly broken, so desperate for his comfort, was exhilerating.   
He didn't answer, as he hungered for more words from Fili.   
„But I will tell you what... what.“   
Kili nodded, remembered Fili could not see him, and let his hand rest on his brother's head gently.   
„You do not have to,“ he whispered quietly, „if you rather keep it to yourself.“ 

At this, he had Fili looking up, and his eyes met their most gorgeous counterpart. Although they were red from crying, and the skin around them swollen, Kili found himself wanting to drown in those eyes. He shook his head, ever so slowly.   
„It is quite... it is... it is well, to talk to you, it must be.“ The warmth of that body was impossible. Kili smiled at him, and prayed with all his might that Fili would not recognise the dark flames dancing in his eyes as the lustful desire that raged within him.   
„You are trembling,“ Kili only answered to that. „You must be cold.“ But he wasn't, he was far from cold, he was hot, burning fire, he was the only sun Kili would ever need in the endless night of his mind. „Come. Let me take care of you. Let me untie you, wash you...“ And the hand previously located on Fili's back wandered down to the small of his back. „... tuck you into bed, little one?“ He smiled slyly.  
„I am still your elder,“ Fili replied, and Kili recognised he tried to sound playful, but a weariness lay behind his words, and for the first time this night, this day, Kili knew there was some part of him that regretted _everything_.

He quickly shoved that venomous part aside, to gently stroke along Fili's spine and untie his ankles. The skin there was reddened, and small irritations spoke of the roughness of Fili's struggle. Kili let his fingers hover above the skin, and then touched it reverently.   
He turned back to Fili, who was sitting up quite straight. A look of pain flashed across his face. Kili wondered why, until understanding dawned on him. „Are you hurt much, brother?“ He had to be. Of course. There was blood, and the way Fili moved – stinted, staccato-like, in sparse motions – was so unlike his usual smooth movements it could only mean immense pain. Kili stared at him for a moment.   
„Not much, Kili,“ he replied quietly, while his hand held his stomach. Kili's hand found his temple, and he brushed aside a few strands of hair to place a soft kiss on his beloved's skin.   
„I will find whoever did this,“ he murmured, his voice as dark as was the longing in his heart, „and I will _hurt_ them. I will beat them bloody. I will chop off their limbs. I will, I will kill them, just, just...“ And he could not say any other word, because he remembered once again how his brother had felt, how he had screamed, and he surpressed a keening sound.   
„Let us not speak of pain,“ Fili answered, his voice raspy, and he lay himself down on the bed, his hand brushing over the temple Kili had just caressed. „I told you I would tell you about what it was that happened, and I will, now.“   
Kili nodded. His brother turned onto his stomach. He could feel a blush heating his cheeks as he watched the familiar image, could feel his nether regions stirring at the sight. This, he quickly brushed aside, or tried to.   
„Tell me,“ he said, slowly, languidly, quietly; and stood, to fetch a rag and wet it in a basin nearby. As he sat down beside Fili, he let the piece of cloth run over his back.   
„I do not know,“ said Fili, and he sounded quite detached from his words. „I woke, and could not see a thing.“ The rag travelled all the way from the reddened skin on Fili's back to his thighs. He hissed, but did not tell Kili to stop. „I was blindfolded, I realised. There. I managed to get rid of it, after he left me. It was one, only one. One dwarf.“ Kili carefully cleaned his brother, his every word igniting a fire within him. „I was scared, quite scared. It was him who tied me to the bed. Then, he... oh, Kili...“   
„Ssh,“ said Kili and put aside the cloth to instead lay his hand on Fili's back. „Do not force yourself.“ 

„No,“ replied Fili. „It must be told. You must know. He used me as you would use your maiden bride on the night of your blossoming. A violent, foul creature he must have been. It is... it was...“ And then, his voice broke – so far, it had been a strong voice, unwavering, like a rock – and Fili tried to fight back a sob – he didn't succeed. 

Kili followed an instinct and laid down beside him, pulling the blanket over both of them, and laying his hand on his brother's cheek. It was damp again. He wanted to kiss him, needed to kiss him, needed to make him feel good, make him feel loved. His brother had deserved so much, had deserved to be served the whole world on a golden plate, had deserved to be cherished and worshipped by the masses; and yet here he lay, sobbing, breaking apart at the seams, and the knowledge it was Kili who had brought this _god_ so far down was as heart-wrenching as it was sensational to him. 

„I love you,“ he heard himself whisper, „I love you, I love you, do not cry, I love you so much...“ And Fili stopped crying, and he kissed him then – a kiss, no, it was naught but a fleeting contact of their lips. Nevertheless it intensified the fire wrecking Kili's body. „Please stop crying,“ he begged. „Please.“ 

Fili did. His voice was empty, filled only with aching sorrow. „Took me, with hatred in his body. It felt like an eternity. The shame, the shame... how could I... I am the heir, I must not...“   
„Ssh,“ said Kili, and let his fingers run along Fili's cheek. „It was not your fault, surely. And there was not hatred in this foul creature, do you not think? If he came in here, to make love to-“   
„That was not love,“ Fili interjected swiftly, and Kili recognised the flames flickering in his eyes as they did in his. „And could never be love. It was a crime. Nothing more. A violent act, like a warrior attacking a helpless child.“   
„You are not helpless,“ Kili argued. Fili stared at him in disbelief. „You are of Durin's line. You could have fought. Better not tell Thorin, he will be disappointed.“   
„Brother, I... no. No, you're right.“ And the broken quality was back in his voice. Kili felt his spirit lifting, and kissed him again, just as airy as before. „I should have fought, I should have freed myself, and yet I failed. There is noone to fault but me...“   
„But that is well,“ Kili soothed. „I love you still, you are my brother still. There are not many people who would say this to a man spoiled like you are, is that not so?“   
Fili stiffened, and Kili let his hand wander to his neck, and pull him close. „Is that not so,“ he whispered. 

Fili did not answer for a long time. When he did, it was to agree with him. Kili laughed quietly.   
„See,“ he said quietly, „It is only me you can trust to always, always be there for you.“ 

Fili was silent. After a long while, he fell asleep in Kili's arms. 

Oh, how he loved him, he thought as he watched weary features, sorrow drawn upon this fair face with bright colours. He swore he would never hurt him again.

That was an oath Kili was not made to honour. The hunger in his bones grew again, and much faster this time, with Fili around him so often; Fili was searching his presence, and he moved so much more cautiously than before, and the defeat was clear in his voice. He'd been such a cheerful dwarf, and had now grown far more solemn than before. Their uncle remarked with pride that his heir was seeming to grow out of his youthful childishness, but Kili knew better. 

His skin was still bursting every time they touched, and one day he could not hope to quench the hunger in any other way than to take what was his again. After all – Fili would prefer to be loved by him once instead of Kili starving to death, was that not so?   
Again he found his way into Fili's room without any difficulty, again he tied him, blindfolded him, again he took him.  
Again he came to him afterwards, to soothe and calm and kiss. 

It happened again one month later. 

One week later.

One day later.

And one night, he cried out his brother's name as he filled him with his seed. 

Fili must have heard him, but Kili followed the procedure, left the room, and returned one hour later. 

Fili did not utter a single word, but he welcomed him into his arms.

That night, they both fell asleep crying.


	12. think of your brother alive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Jumping on board with the Fili looks like Frerin headcanon that is going around.  
> Fili is confused by the way Thorin looks at him sometimes, but even more so when Thorin pushes him away.  
> Thorin sees how Kili is with Fili and it brings up painful memories. And gets angry at them.  
> Would love it if it's Balin and/or Dwalin who tells Fili and Kili about Frerin.
> 
> Link: http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/3651.html?thread=7480899#t7480899

The fire burns in front of them. It is cold out, and Fili has not gotten used to spending his nights outside, beneath a cloudless sky; they have spent almost all of their years in Ered Luin, and have never had to brave the harsh life of one without a home before. Now they do, and he shivers. 

It can never be too cold, though, not with his head on Kili's lap and his brother's hands lazily braiding his hair. His eyes have been closed for quite some time now, to relish in the feeling of those raw fingers caressing him, but he knows that their uncle is looking at him. They have come out along with Thorin and his oldest friend Dwalin, to work in the men's villages and gain experience, and have set up their camp somewhere at the edge of a forest. 

He always stares at him, Fili knows, but knows not the reason, because it is clear that Thorin does not like him much. They rarely talk, whereas he knows that Kili can spend hours in their uncle's company, and Thorin will smile his scarce smiles. Never has Thorin smiled at him; there is only ever pain on his face when he looks at him, and forced restraint lacing his few words. He does not understand why his uncle would bear his heir such a dislike, and sometimes fears that Thorin plans to have him removed from the line completely. 

Now, Thorin and Dwalin are sitting opposite of them. A pot hovers above the fire, stew boiling inside it, and the scent is delicious. Fili opens his eyes to meet Kili's, laughing with unspoken mirth, and he smiles brightly despite the weariness in his bones.  
„How long until we can eat?“ he asks, not moving his head.  
„Exercise some patience,“ Dwalin all but growls as he stirs the food. „Will take some while.“  
„Ah, fine,“ he replies, and Kili's fingers are stroking over his cheeks. Fili laughs under his breath. „Brother, you must learn some self-control.“  
„Oh?“ answers Kili and withdraws his hands. „You rather I didn't touch you?“  
„Don't be stupid,“ and Fili's tone is light, but all of a sudden their uncle stands. 

„Fili is right,“ he chokes out between clenched teeth. „You must learn some self-control, Kili. Do not let him too close to your heart.“  
Silence follows his words, and Fili turns his head towards their uncle. He's trembling slightly, and it is unbelievably odd to see this stout, unrelenting dwarf thrown off balance like this. „Apologies, uncle,“ he mutters, but Thorin doesn't look at him. He never will, and suddenly there's anger in Fili's stomach. He won't look at him, he won't talk to him; and now he's had the guts to ask his precious, beloved brother to stay clear of him. Is he truly this abominable? What, what has he done to deserve his uncle's loathing so? 

Fili struggles with his emotions for a moment before he manages to fight them down, until only a heavy weight remains within him. But he doesn't trust himself to speak.  
In his place, Kili speaks. His hands are back on Fili's scalp, and he seems calm, but Fili knows that this is the calm before the storm – Kili always moves, restless, and when he is quiet, an outburst is usually followed shortly after. 

„That ship sailed a long time ago,“ he replies, his words hissed, and Fili feels the duty to sit up, and interrupt Kili.  
„Do not speak so to your king,“ he murmurs, and takes a cautious look of Thorin. What he sees surprises him; Thorin looks sick, his skin pale and taut, and he turns around and stomps into the dark forest without another word. 

Kili wraps one arm around Fili's waist, who's sitting after all, and he's grateful for the support, the comfort. „You let him get away with far too much,“ Kili mutters, but Fili simply shakes his head. 

To both their surprise, Dwalin, who has been quiet so far, also shakes his head.  
„Has your mother any paintings of your uncle? The dead one, I mean. Frerin.“  
Those words are odd, Fili thinks; Dwalin probably wants to take off their minds of this nasty situation, to protect Thorin from any bad feelings, he supposes. Kili is still staring in the direction of the forest, but Fili thankfully takes the opportunity.  
„No,“ he answers. „And neither does she speak of him.“  
„That is not true,“ says Kili and proves he _has_ been listening so far, „once she told me you remind her of him.“ That is new to Fili. He has always had a close relationship with his mother, but never has she seen it necessary to tell him of this. Kili continues. „Your hair, she said, fair and golden.“  
Dwalin interrupts him.  
„That's not what's important to him. I knew Frerin.“ He takes a bowl into one hand and pours some stew into it with the other. „It's your ways, Fili. Your voice is like his. You walk just like he did. Some things you say, I wonder if it's you or your uncle. There's your eyes. Exactly like his. And...“ He takes a second bowl and repeats the motion, calm, controlled. „How you are with your brother. Thorin's not always been this solemn. I was young when Frerin died, but I remember well the ways of those brothers. I remember well, because I see _you_.“ He takes the third bowl, and fills it. „And it's just like they were. Far too close for their own good.“ The fourth bowl, and he reaches over to hand it to Fili. „Bring this to him. He's hungry.“ 

With that, the gruff voice fades. Fili clutches the bowl in his hands for a few moments, before Kili nudges him. „Come on, just do it.“  
Fili nods, dazed. 

The uncle he never knew, should that be the explanation? It sounds ridiculous, for Thorin to have resented him all those years because he reminds him of what he has lost... As Fili stands, he looks down at his brother, looks down at hopeful eyes screaming their love, and he thinks he understands. 

To lose Kili, he thinks as he takes a few steps into the darkness. To lose Kili. To watch him die. To lose Kili. „Uncle?“ he calls out. To lose Kili. „I brought your supper.“ To lose Kili. To lose Kili. A noise somewhere to his left, and Thorin comes out from behind a tree. To lose Kili. Fili hands him the bowl, wordlessly. To lose Kili. 

He cannot even imagine the pain, cannot imagine the emptiness in his heart, how he would bleed, scream, die inside for nobody to see. He cannot even imagine this pain; how could he even begin to grasp the depth of Thorin's agony? _He_ , after all, still has his brother by his side, in his arms, in his bed. There is no face familiar to Kili's, to remind him of the love and the lover he has lost. He does not have to watch his nephews falling into the same trap, loving each other too much, does not have to bear the knowledge of the pain one of them will have to face should they not leave the world as one. 

To lose Kili, he thinks, is a deep, dark abyss, a fear hidden in somewhere in his mind he doesn't dare to go. To lose Kili is a nightmare, one without waking. To lose Kili is death, and he finds sudden admiration in his heart for his uncle who kept on after he had survived his younger brother. 

Fili may look like Frerin, may walk like him, talk like him, sound like him, _be_ like him, even; but what he does not doubt is that he _feels_ not like Frerin, but like Thorin. 

„Dwalin told us a story,“ he says quietly, and Thorin does not look at him. „Of you, and Frerin...“  
„Don't say his name,“ says Thorin, and there is desperation in his voice, and hurt, and an ache so deep it rings in Fili's bones just from listening to that voice. He bows his head.  
„I am very sorry,“ he murmurs. „I understand now, I-“  
„You do?“ asks Thorin. Suddenly, he's far too close. „Do you? Do you really?“ 

„Yes,“ and Fili proudly raises his chin. „I do. I understand, because he is mine and I am his and none of us will leave this world without the other.“  
Thorin makes to interrupt, but Fili continues, regardless of his uncle's words. „And do you know _what_ else I understand? I understand why you could never talk to me, to your _heir_ properly, why you could never _look_ at me- and I want to say, it is alright. It has hurt, but this pain is nothing, nothing. And I forgive you.“ It still hurts, but that Fili will not say.

Thorin is silent for a long while. He watches Fili closely, stares at him with open eyes, revealing the pained soul within.

„Do you,“ he finally manages to say, „yes, you do, you understand, but that's not... that's not what I wanted for you. I'm-“  
And that is when Fili does not know if he isn't hallucinating.  
„-I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Never did I want this pain to loom on the horizon of your future. I am troubled, it destroys even the toughest dwarf.“

Fili steps forward, until they almost touch. Thorin flinches, but does not move.  
„But it has not destroyed you, Thorin.“ 

His uncle steps back, looks away.  
„Don't,“ he says, and his voice is strangled, and pained. Fili turns his gaze towards the ground.  
„It has not destroyed you,“ he repeats himself. 

Thorin is quiet.  
„It is true. You are my heir, mysister's son, but the moment you were born, you...“ His voice breaks, and he straightens his posture. „I thank you for your forgiveness, Fili. I could not ask for it. You will truly be a good king one day.“  
He does not need to say he was proud, Fili could hear that clearly in between those words. He smiles. 

„And I promise,“ he says, low, quietly, but loud enough for his uncle to hear. He sees black hair, shining eyes. He sees dust and an hollow ache, he sees longing and bitter tears unshed. He sees innocence torn apart, he sees losing everything, sees fire and blood and death. „Uncle, I promise. I will never let him die. Either we live together, or die together.“ 

It is sad, the smile that appears on Thorin's lips.


	13. Minifills

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Exams are coming up, and I have been terribly unproductive.  
> However, I wanted to share some minifills I've written that have somehow collected over the time. They're too short to be separate chapters, so have it this way.  
> Prompts + links in the notes at the end.

#1: "Flamboyant Fili"

He's blond, is the first thing Bilbo notices about the dwarf.  
The second thing he notices is his moustache.  
The third thing he notices about him is his rather particular way of speaking. 

"Will you hold those weapons, yes, yes, _thank_ you," he says and waddles away in the direction of, Bilbo is not quite sure as to _where_ he is waddling, because his hips are swaying in a rather hypnotising way. 

The blond dwarf - Fili - looks quite different from the other dwarves, too, at least his clothes do. The others wear fur and leather; brown and grey and auburn seem to be their colours.  
Fili, however, wears a golden doublet sashed by a rich red velvet, small (fake) diamonds covering the seams and making him literally glitter. There are intricate details sewn onto the doublet, too; a reddish snake winds its tail around his torso. He's also wearing high heels. Red high heels. 

"Look at _you_ ," Bilbo overhears him telling a dwarf whose name he's already forgotten again - Groin, maybe, or Toin, " _that_ belt with _those_ beard clasps? That is _so_ 2800, girlfriend." Foin rolls his eyes and leaves. 

Later, he overhears another little discussion. "That's a gorgeous scarf," Fili tells the dwarf called Ori, "very original." Ori blushes violently.  
"Wow, you really think so? I made it myself." Bilbo smiles to himself. 

Even later, or rather, a few days later, he watches Fili the blond dwarf jumping at a troll and slashing at him with a huge sword as his heels dig deeply into the monster's skin. 

"No, no, you're cute enough just the way you are, honey," he tells Bilbo afterwards. "You don't need to prove yourself to _anyone_ around here. Least of all Thorin. I mean, _ugh_! Just look at him. Black is _so_ not his colour." And Bilbo smiles yet again. 

-

#2: "Thranduil/Gloin, Legolas/Gimli - Unrequited, Pining"

To love a dwarf is nothing but agony. Legolas learnt a lot from his much admired father, but this lesson is probably the fiercest of them all. 

"Son," he still hears Thranduil's voice in his ears after decades have passed, "It will never do well to form bonds with dwarves. They are a stubborn folk, and will never accept you in any way. They love who they will, without consideration, without any form of choosing who is truly worth their affection. Promise your father you will never repeat my mistakes." Those words have been spoken in one dark, late night, and never again has Thranduil spoken of the dwarven lover he has not lost, because he has never had him in the beginning. 

The only words spoken out loud, but Legolas is not a child anymore when a company of dwarves walks right into the Mirkwood. He is not a child anymore, he is not blind, he is not innocent to love, neither to rejection. His father's eyes are overflowing with a pain that has Legolas' whole body aching in sympathy. His mouth is a tight line, lips pressed together until they almost merge. He holds himself bravely, but Legolas knows his father better than anyone, and sees the most beautiful broken creature. 

The dwarf is ugly, Legolas thinks; thick beard the colour of raging fire, of dying woods, and cannot fathom his father's longing. He is ugly, and fierce, and anger seems to flow through his blood hotter than Legolas can imagine. 

He cannot fathom his father's longing until much later. _His_ beard does not remind him of raging fire, but of a cosy hearth, not of dying woods but of a spring awakening, although he is aware of the fact that it is just the same colour, that the blood in _his_ veins is the same as is the blood in the veins of the foul creature which has broken his father. Only the eyes, Legolas thinks, the eyes could not be more different, but that doesn't help him when the ache blossoms in his heart that his father knows all too well. 

He would tell him, but remembers Thranduil's words. _They love who they will, without consideration_ , and he remembers the promise he has given him; and guilt joins the ache in his heart as he realises that he has broken the promise. 

And so, he does not tell his dwarf, and contents with their friendship. 

\- 

#3: "Fili/Kili, Kili's son, ANGST, Incest"

Every day Kili wakes to find the impossible in the adjoining room. His son bears the name of the grandfather Kili has never known, but from the first moment he's looked into his grey eyes, Kili has only ever seen his brother in his too-fine features and the smattering of fair hair upon his head. 

His consort, a beautiful lady with a thick beard the colour of molten gold, lies by his side, curled around his body. He loves her, he does; loves her as good as he can, with his whole life down to its bones for many long years. Only recently has he begun to truly _live_ again, have the wounds begun to scar over, but he knows the pain will always be there when he wakes, a sharp, dull pain, and will be there when he lies down in the night. 

The pain is eased when he is with his son, who has grown up quite formidably, and has never ceased to remind Kili of his brother; the part of him he has lost forever. Thus Kili spends much time with his heir, almost too much, watches him grow, and sees Fili growing in his mind. 

When his son takes his first steps, he calls him 'Fili' the first time. It does not stay the only time, happening more frequently as he grows, as his moustache grows, as he starts to braid his hair. His child's personality is so _different_ from his brother's; Thrain is rash and moody at times, uncomfortable in his skin and even a bit shy, very unbecoming attitudes for a king-to-be. Still Kili cannot not love him with his whole being.

It scares him, too. When Thrain grows older, when his muscles are strong and bright, his back broad, the images Kili sees as he watches his son grow darker. It is not only Fili and him playing pranks on their uncle anymore, not only his brother's face in the darkness, not only Fili high atop a tree and throwing pinecones at him. It is what they have shared later on that flashes in front of his eyes as he watches his son now, it is his brother panting his name, it is Fili's face contorted with unaltered bliss, moaning and screaming he sees. He sees himself and his son – his brother – both at once and yet none of them – he sees himself taking him, loving him, and hates himself as much as he loves the boy, as much as he loved Fili. 

After many years, he can not differentiate between the two. Is Thrain the shy one, or has Fili been shy? Whose lips were soft and loving on his own, whose hands down his breeches, whose tongue on his chest? Which is his son, which is his brother, or are they the same? 

Kili does not know if he is growing crazy.  
Kili does not care.  
Kili wants the only dwarf he's ever loved, and does not even know if he's dead anymore. 

-

#4: "Arranged Marriage- Legolas/Gimli (this ship is actually my super ship sailing even before the dawn of time so deal with it.)"

„Father?“ asks Gimli, and surprise colours his voice. He has not expected Lord Gloin here, in the heart of Legolas' home, waiting for him alongside the Elven King. _Alongside_ is, of course, not the right word – Gloin respects a King as much as anyone, even one of the sort of Thranduil, who is a treacherous bastard according to the stories his father has told him when he had been but a little dwarfling – yes, he respects the King, and thus stands some inches lower. 

„Welcome, Gimli, son of Gloin,“ speaks the King, and Gimli looks at him with all the calmness his love for Legolas enables him to feel in this moment.  
„King Thranduil,“ he nods in his direction, and turns his gaze back to his father. „What in Mahal's name are you doing here, father?!“ he asks, the calmness disappeared from his voice. „You! Here! In the halls of this, as you like to call him, tr-“  
„Son!!“ bellows his father's mighty voice through the hall. „Will you close that hasty mouth of yours! Finally peace is upon us, only one more step away.“ Gimli recognises pain flashing across his face, and subconsciously goes to touch his axe. 

Legolas puts one calming hand on his shoulder. He is grateful for his lover's presence. Never could he have looked any of these great creatures in the eyes without Legolas' heart beating by his side. 

This simplifies things, he thinks; they will not have to face their parents one after the other. Two gems hewn from one stone, as the old dwarven saying goes.

„One more step?“ he hears Legolas' voice, fair and mellow, waver through the air. Still his hand lays upon his shoulder. „What is this, Master Dwarf?“  
A lopsided grin finds its way onto Gimli's face, but there is nothing but sorrow on Gloin's face.  
„And, father, ...“ speaks the Elf, „I can see something ails you greatly, speak to me of your worries.“  
Gimli thinks he's going blind, because to him Thranduil looks just fine. But then again, often has he watched the subtle shift in his friend's eyes, and knows by now how to read them. Legolas has known his father for all his long life – of course he understands him in a way a mortal like Gimli never could. 

„A pact,“ says Gloin, and looks at Gimli with pity in his eyes, and then at Legolas with hatred. „To join Erebor and this damned woodland, for war to never break out between our kingdoms again. A marriage pact. It is you to be married, we have agreed in council beneath the mountain, and Thranduil has agreed as well.“ 

Cold fear rises within Gimli. He shall not marry one of those arrogant, prancing elves; he would have been loathe to do so before, but now the thought physically repulses him. He has found his companion, the one he will spend the rest of his meagre life with. Their relationship has been forged by danger, love, and blood, and it has come through much miscommuncation and misery, but it has prevailed. He will not lose the Elf at his side for anything, will not, can not, shall not... he turns to Legolas, and the hand is still right there on his shoulders, pressing down. As he always does, his lover looks completely unfazed by everything, but the way his fingers apply pressure to Gimli's shoulder tells him all of the tension the Elf is under. 

„Yes,“ says Thranduil, and his voice is like the clouds floating overhead on a warm spring's eve, „and you shall be allowed to marry my third son, Legolas Greenleaf, who is your comrade and brother-in-arms.“  
„And an Elf!!“ Gloin's voice cuts through the room like a knife through air. „I apologise, son; never have I wished this fate upon you, believe me!“ 

Gimli's eyes widen. He feels like laughing, but finds he cannot. Legolas falls to his knees, his hand suddenly retracted from Gimli's shoulder. He already misses the comforting touch, but knows he does not need any more comfort. 

„My son,“ and Thranduil steps down from the small elevation he has sat upon, „do not shame me by the weakness of your heart. On your feet, beloved.“  
„Gimli, Gimli,“ Gloin cries out, and rushes towards them, clasping his son's shoulders. „You are stricken, I can see! But I cannot offer you any comfort. It is for the greater good.“  
„Yes, Legolas.“ Thranduil has floated down to them as well. „The greater good. Remember this when you must share time and bed with that dwarf. I have raised a warrior, and you will not succumb.“  
„What do you mean?!“ Gloin yells by now, turning to Thranduil instead of his son. „Gimli could never lay hands on such a disgusting creature!“ 

That is quite enough, Gimli thinks, and extends one hand towards his father. „Father, father, stay your hand,“ he says, and does not know if he is laughing or crying. Apparently, he must be crying, because Gloin is embracing him tightly.  
„My jewel,“ he cries out, „My precious son, my gemstone, my...“ 

„Gloin,“ says Legolas. All eyes are on him; Gloin tries to shield Gimli from the Elf, but Legolas is still kneeling, and his hair falls in front of his face. He looks magnificent, and the small smile on his lips makes Gimli want to kiss him right where they are.  
„And father. Be assured that sharing my time and my bed with Gimli is what I have done for a long time already.“  
Gimli blushes at those words, so unsubtle, and mutters something. Gloin shakes him. 

„Gimli,“ he speaks, „are this creature's allegations true, has he forced himself upon you?“  
„My son,“ interjects Thranduil, „could never force himself upon anyone, least of all one of your race.“ 

„Will you two be quiet!“ This time it is Gimli's voice cutting through the air. All is quiet except for Legolas, whose eyes are gleaming. Gimli tries to wriggle out of his father's embrace.  
„It is as he says, and aye! we are more than comrades, more than friends, more than partners.“  
„But-“ The single word spurts out from Gloin. Gimli silences him.  
„I have entrusted Legolas with my true name, father. Never could you ask me to marry anyone but him.“ 

Legolas does not move, does not rise, but Gimli steps back to his side, nudges his side with his elbow.

Their fathers are quiet. 

„We speak the truth,“ Legolas finally murmurs, and still his voice is clear as a mountain brook. „This marriage shall be a feast, for we have chosen to love one another.“ 

Still their fathers are silent. Legolas places a soft kiss on Gimli's brow before he rises and stares right at his father.

„But do not expect us to come into this marriage unspoiled like maidens.“  
And Gimli breaks out in bellowing laughter. 

-

#5: "Durin Family - Mother of Thorin, Dis and Frerin" 

There is a reason a child's laughter is more precious to dwarves than all the gold in the world.  
There have always been few of them, she thinks as she cradles her son in her lap. Too few children.

Thorin is a fierce little child. When he wrestles with his father, she can't hide the bright smile on her face, can't fight the warmth blossoming in her heart. Her hand lies upon her belly, stretched tight with a second child. It is a miracle, they tell her; to become pregnant two times, and still be so strong, physically and mentally.

She cradles Frerin in her arms, a pink hairless babe, and love colours her cheeks red. Although she yearns to return to her anvil and hammer, to make the most intricate jewellery, her fingers don't twitch when they caress the soft skin of her second child. He's a blessing, and Thrain looks at her as if she is a goddess.

The love within her is almost too much, she thinks at times, as she looks at all of them. The people she will one day reign over as Queen; her husband, fierce, loyal and a great smith. She still remembers the day they have met as if it was yesterday; the way he'd looked at her as he had come for counsel regarding the forging of a particularly complicated hilt. And most of all, her little sons, merry and clever and cheerful.

When she realises she has grown pregnant a third time, joy makes her cry the first time in nearly fifty years. She cries again, twelve months later, when the newborn babe is buried just outside of Erebor. Three children are the perfect number for a proud dwarven parent, and the little unnamed babe would have been so loved by his siblings, by his father, by his mother.  
She cries for one whole year, it seems to her.

She returns to her forge afterwards, but always keeps her sons and her husband close.  
And she grows pregnant a fourth time, and this time, people avoid looking at her. Fear has gripped her tightly. Three children, that is perfect - but four pregnancies, noone has ever had of such a thing. Each pregnany has sapped her strength, and her once muscled arms have grown thinner with each child brought into the world, thinner, like her fair hair and her greying beard.

Her husband is there with her as she writhes in agony, as the little girl - a girl, a girl, a girl - is laid at her breast. Her sons are not. The air is damp and foul, but she has only eyes for her daughter.

Yes, there is a reason a child's laughter is more precious to dwarves than all the gold in the world. It is often that a child buys his life with his mother's.

The girl's eyes are the last thing she sees. 

-

#6: "Fíli, Kíli, Thorin Modern AU" 

The child is crying, and that's the first time Thorin understands he's not his father. He pauses, stares at his feet, and decides to stay; in front of the door to the bedroom the half-brothers share in his house. He's crying quietly, trying to surpress the tears, and Thorin feels his skin itching.

But he can't go in now, can't comfort the kid. He knows, somewhere, that he's just a scared child, just his nephew; but every time he looks at him, he only sees the man who broke his sister, and there is noone he's loved more than his sister, and consequently there's noone he hates more than the man he's made sure has been resting underground for years now. He knows that if he were to enter the room, he would leave again without having said a word.

Still he stays where he is, in front of the door left ajar, and listens to the child's tears.

"Fí," and even though it's a murmur, quiet and sleepy, Thorin recognises the voice of the boy with sunshine in his eyes and love in his laughter. Fíli stifles his sobs. "Are you crying, Fí?" Kíli asks, innocent and curious and somehow scared.  
Fíli is silent for a few moments. "Nah," he says then, and Thorin can clearly make out the way his voice trembles, "I'm fine, I'm fine."  
Kíli, it seems, won't take his brother's lies. "No you're not, you were crying." There's a rustling of blankets, and Thorin peeks into the room to see Kíli scurrying over to join Fíli in his bed. He'd rather have them less close, because this way, he's always thought, it will hurt the sweet boy much more when Thorin finally manages to get rid of Fíli.

"What's wrong," he asks, barely audible, and Thorin strains to hear his words. Fíli doesn't answer at first, but there's another sob after a while. It's Kíli who's crying now, he realises. "If you're sad, I'm sad too!" he proclaims, and Thorin closes his eyes, suddenly sharing his nephew's misery.  
"Don't," pleads Fíli. Kíli doesn't stop crying. "It's just, it's, I'm being silly, don't cry brother, please..." Kíli doesn't stop. He doesn't stop. "Do you want me to sing a lullaby? How about the one about the misty mountains? Mommy loved it so."  
When Kíli speaks, his voice is choked by tears. "No, I want you to be happy!!" he answers violently. "That's all I want! Be happy!"

Fíli, Thorin can see in the darkness, goes still. "Alright," he answers, and Kíli grows quiet. "I'll try. But it's not easy."  
"Why not," asks Kíli. "I know Mommy's gone, and that's very, very sad, and Daddy too, but I'm still here, I'll always be here, and uncle Thorin too..."  
"For you," and the bitterness in the child's tone surprises Thorin. "But he doesn't like me."  
"That's silly!" Kíli objects. Thorin feels guilt welling up inside of him. "Uncle Thorin loves you much!"  
"He never looks at me, and when he does, he looks angry. He never talks to me, he never sings to me, he never kisses me goodnight. He's very mean. And some days ago, he spoke with a man about me, you know, that huge man without hair.. and he said he wants to find an orphanage to put me in."  
"What's an orphanage?" Kíli asks.  
"I don't know," Fíli answers, "but I think it's very far away from here. And I don't want that. He hates me and that's, that's... that is alright, but I don't wanna leave you."  
"Yeah," Kíli answers, his voice defiant, "and you won't leave, I won't allow uncle Thorin to make you go away!"

He's heard enough, and, stepping into the room, turns on the light.

"Will you two be quiet already," he orders, looking at two little children huddled beneath a blanket. "It's past bedtime. You worry far too much, I could never separate you from one another. Now sleep."  
Kíli glares at him, he notices. "Promise you won't!"  
Thorin almost feels a smile growing on his lips. He looks at Fíli, a child comprehending far too much about emotions hidden well away in his opinion. Or have children his age always been this bright, and he's just forgotten? "Fíli will stay here. I promise."

Kíli seems to be satisfied by that. "Alright! Fí, Fí, you want to sing the lullaby now? Uncle Thorin, you may also listens."

And Fíli still looks at Thorin, fear shining in his eyes, and suddenly Thorin feels forced to kneel down.  
"Yes," he says, "I would much like to listen to that lullaby."

(Fíli sings extremely off-key and Thorin remembers most of the lyrics to that song much differently than what he sings, but in the end Kíli is asleep again, and Thorin feels a little bit younger, a little bit lighter.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #1: http://www.youtube.com/watch?annotation_id=annotation_229384&feature=iv&src_vid=qXFQFnUdh5I&v=tIc4AkwAx0A
> 
> So, this is the behind the scenes look to the Hillywood Show's parody of The Hobbit. If you don't have 20 minutes to spare, just skip around to listen to the guy playing Fili talk.
> 
> Guys, we need flamboyant!Fili in this fandom. I need it, at least. Pretty, pretty please? Art!fill or fic are both perfect. All my love to anyone that would fill this!  
> http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/3138.html?thread=4768834#t4768834
> 
> #2: Thranduil has met Gloin previous to Thorin & Co.'s capture. He had loved him fiercely, yet Gloin only has eyes for his wife.  
> Legolas takes notice of his father's discontent when the Company is imprisoned but says nothing when he sees the pain in his father's countenance.  
> Any expanding and including Gimli at some point in the future would be magnificent.  
> http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/3393.html?thread=6245697#t6245697
> 
> #3: Kili is the only one of the Line of Durin to survive the Battle of Five Armies and is crowned King Under the Mountain. The death of his brother has left him slightly unhinged, though, and although he's functional enough to rule, some parts of him are permanently broken.
> 
> The worst thing is that his eldest son looks exactly like Fili. Kili loves and hates him in equal measure - loves him with the love he had for Fili, then hates him for always reminding him of what he lost.  
> http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/3393.html?thread=5438785#t5438785
> 
> #4: Gimli and Legolas return from the quest, ready to tell their respective parents that they are in a relationship. However,before they do so, Thranduil and Gloin must break the news to their respective sons that they negotiated a treaty of some sort in which Legolas and Gimili must be married. To each other.  
> Points if they are in pleased shock but Thranduil and Gloin think it's anger/sorrow.  
> http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/2320.html?thread=7631888#t7631888
> 
> #5: So we don't actually know who Thrain's wife was, or what she was like. Was she kind and gentle, inclined to song and dance? Or a fierce warrior who could best her husband in mock duels? Or neither, or equally both?
> 
> And does Thorin remember his mother? Does Dis?
> 
> How did she die? Or, did she in fact live to hear the news of her son's and grandsons' demise?  
> http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/4373.html?thread=8859669#t8859669
> 
> #6: Fíli and Kíli's parents died and Thorin has to take them in, but what if the father was only Kíli's father, not Fíli's and Fíli's father was a drunk, abusive bastard who hurt Dís and she had to ran away from him with a baby Fíli before he met Kíli's father, a great men who loved and cared for his family a lot.  
> Thorin hated Fíli's father with all his being cause he knows how much he hurt Dís and hates Fíli too for he can't help but see the resemblance to his son of a bitch father and pretty much assumes Fíli is just a worthless a trash like him. He is more than happy to take Kíli with him cause he loves him like a son, but Fili? he would rather left him in an orphanage... or find his father and leave him with him...
> 
> JUST GIVE ME FÍLI ANGST PLEASE
> 
> +10000 if Thorin eventually realizes what a kind and sweet child Fíli is, and how much he loves and cares for his little brother so he warms up to him, much against his will  
> http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/4373.html?thread=9753109#t9753109


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